


Tidelines

by Phoenix1966



Series: Wilds of Alaska [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Jared, Depression, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt Jared, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mild D/s, Minor Character Death, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Alternating, Possessive Jensen, Top Jensen, Violence, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 69,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix1966/pseuds/Phoenix1966
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After five years together, Jared's boyfriend just left him one day with no note, explanation or way to contact him. </p><p>Eight months later, still struggling with a broken heart, Jared finds himself in the wilds of Alaska for a corporate retreat, reunited with his long lost lover. </p><p>But has fate brought them together only to tear them apart forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the [SPN Meant To Be Challenge](http://spn-meanttobe.livejournal.com) over at LiveJournal hosted by tebtosca. I was very lucky to have Heartblowswild do some amazing art for the story and you should go look at it right now over on [LiveJournal](http://heartblowswild.livejournal.com/50897).  
>  Standard disclaimer applies that this was all for fun and no profit was made and no copyright infringement intended.
> 
> I do not give permission for anyone to repost my works anywhere. If this continues, I will delete all my work and no longer post.

_A tideline can refer to where two currents in the ocean converge. Certain types of tidelines are often found where rivers enter the oceans._

 

**Prologue**

**Austin, Texas**

**January**

Jared let his body slump boneless against the closed door. Another day done. He hooked a finger over the Windsor knot of his silk tie to give it a rough tug while tossing his apartment keys onto the foyer table with his other hand. At the distinct absence of a clink, he realized he’d missed the bowl again. Toeing off his loafers, Jared decided all he wanted to do was have a drink and call it a night, maybe watch a movie after taking a quick inventory of his fridge. To be honest, he wasn’t sure when he’d last made a grocery store run. As he was about to pull the tie completely free, he glanced over at his living room, stiffening in surprise. About ten pairs of eyes were staring back at him. He recognized his sister’s hazel ones in the mix. Straightening his spine, Jared sighed as he realized that it was going to be a long night after all.

                                                            *****

“I’m sorry if we overwhelmed you,” Alex said, breaking the strained silence, hours later. Jared didn’t acknowledge her, simply leaned over and tossed a pile of crumpled napkins into the trash bag he was carrying. It wasn’t the first time she had apologized to Jared that evening and he suspected it probably wouldn’t be the last time, either. Jared let the silence drag on a bit, just enough to be uncomfortable. Eventually, he glared at her through the curtain of his dark bangs before finally shrugging, mostly because he didn’t believe she really was all that sorry. She had it in her head to fix things and he knew how his sister got when she set her mind to something; he could be stubborn, too. He was secretly grateful she hadn’t invited their parents over, although he’d be damned if he admitted that little fact to her. When he had seen all the people waiting for him, he half-feared his parents might have been there, too. In the end, he realized that they were thankfully absent. He was barely able to face his friends over everything; he didn’t know what he would have said or done in front of his mother and father.

The last handful of their mutual friends had finally filed out of Jared’s apartment and Jared would have been blind to have missed the worried glances a few of them still tossed back at him as they left. Blind or blind drunk, he corrected himself, and he was nowhere near that. At least, not yet he wasn’t. Strewn about the living room was the evidence of their impromptu “pizza party” his older sister had organized, boxes of half eaten pie piled everywhere and the ubiquitous, red Solo cups stacked near 2-liter bottles of Coke. He grabbed a few of the grease-stained, cardboard containers and shuffled into the kitchen with them. There was no way that all those boxes were going to fit into his small trashcan. But Jared was nothing if not resourceful. Square peg, round hole. Not a problem.

 After an epic battle that involved a broom handle and rolling pin, he jammed the cartons into the narrow can.  Just when Jared thought he had succeeded, one popped halfway out, sort of mocking him with an oily smile on its lid, and he knew he couldn’t win. He shook his head at the mess and stumbled back into the living room, tugging up his jeans, which seemed to slip off of his hips more and more frequently.

Jared loved Alexandra to death, but her lame attempt at an intervention was fairly obvious. He’d seen that series on A&E and, while not as dramatic as those played out to a television audience, this one had been somewhat intense, nonetheless. His friends had talked about what had happened and offered sympathetically worded concern and barely concealed advice. After all, it was easy for them to see where it had all gone wrong. Alex had kept mostly silent, letting the others do her dirty work throughout the evening. But now it was just the two of them, with no buffers between. He watched as his sister, with her long, dark hair now pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, methodically collected the Samuel Adams’ bottles scattered throughout the room, some precariously perched on the shelves of his extensive bookcases – solid wood that could handle a little spill or two and not pressboard, pieces-of-shit. He knew she was taking a mental tally of how much he had had to drink that evening. Jared could see her frown while she carefully peeled one bottle off his beloved copy of _The Fountainhead_ that had been turned into an impromptu coaster, even though it looked like Howard Roark and his set square survived the ordeal unscathed. And that frown deepened as she spied the mostly empty Patrón Añejo bottle, which was propping up Le Corbusier’s _Towards a New Architecture_.

He turned away from her disapproving look, accusing blue-green-brown eyes too much like his own to face, and simply stared out the window at the city lights of Austin. Well, the slightly blurry city lights, that is. Okay, maybe he _had_ had a bit too much tonight, and maybe he had had a bit too much for the last few months, if his loose clothing was anything to go by. But he never driven afterwards – wouldn’t _ever_ because of Jensen’s past – and it hadn’t been affecting his work, so whose business was it anyways besides his? Jared leaned against the glass and it felt like a touch of relief against his hot skin. Each breath fogged the surface more, turning it into an impromptu canvas. He dragged a finger against it, tracing the outlines of buildings. Lights winked on, lights winked off. Life was moving on without him.

Almost as though she could read his thoughts, Alex sent him a stern glare when she returned from the kitchen recycling and sat down on his sectional sofa, a leather monstrosity he had bought together with Jensen two years back; something that could actually accommodate a pair of grown men both over 6’ tall and not make them feel like circus contortionists if they sat on it together. Alex just stretched out her legs, but didn’t budge under his withering stare. Apparently, she wasn’t leaving quite yet.

_Great_ , he thought, _more lectures_. Jared gave a resigned snort, something between a laugh and a sob, before dragging his hand under his nose and then frowning at what he saw there. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he had started crying. Again. Today.

“Gross,” he chuckled and then flopped down on the couch beside his sister, not sure what to do with his gooey hand. She reached over to the coffee table and fished out a relatively clean napkin, left over from the pizza carnage and Jared’s half-hearted cleanup efforts. “Thanks,” Jared mumbled and wiped at his face and hand furiously before balling the used thing up and tossing it back onto the table.

“Double gross,” Alex teased.

“You’re double gross,” he replied with easy familiarity.

“What does that even mean?” she asked, laughing as she shook her head at him, fondness creeping into her eyes.

“I dunno,” he replied and then listed to the side until his head rested in her lap. He blamed his actions on the booze and not the need for comfort that he knew his sister would always offer him unconditionally. She started to slowly comb her fingers through his chestnut-brown hair, smoothing the bangs from his forehead, and it reminded Jared of when they were younger and she would read him bedtime stories. Or make up bedtime stories tailored especially for him. It was a good memory. It made him feel safe and brave enough to ask the question he should have months ago, something that he felt should only be whispered in the dark.

“What am I going to do?” his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was sharing a guilty secret.

Alex was quiet for some time, but never stopped her rhythmic stroking. Jared knew she was weighing her words carefully. His older sister was always precise, if somewhat heavy-handed at times. But she never bullshitted anyone and he knew she’d be honest. “You’re not going to like it,” she said on a sigh. He tensed up before replying, “Go ahead anyway.” It needed to be said.

“You have to let him go,” she answered quietly. “It’s time. It’s been time for a while now and I think you know it.”

“I can’t,” he finally admitted to her in a choked whisper.

“I don’t understand, Jared. He _left_ you.” She said the last part like it was somehow new information only just being brought to light. And maybe it was. Maybe Jared had kept it all shoved away in the dark, where it couldn’t hurt him as much. He stiffened but before he could get a word in edgewise, she added, “Hear me out, little brother.” Jared didn’t trust himself to speak, simply nodded his head in her lap.

“He took off three months ago, without a single word. Three months,” she repeated for emphasis. “Took his clothes, some pictures and bailed on you. There was no note; there’ve been no emails, no phone calls. Hell, his phone’s been out of service almost from the get-go,” she listed matter-of-factly. “Five years and he left you just like that.” And as if it were yesterday, he found himself remembering that fateful day in question in gory, detailed hi-def.

_Jared came home to his and Jensen’s apartment after a late day at the office. An odd zoning issue for his current project, one that apparently he was the only one qualified to deal with, had popped up at the last minute and had kept him longer than he had expected. But as soon as he tossed his keys into the bowl on the small table in the entryway, something had seemed…off. There was an emptiness to the place, a hollowness that he couldn’t put his finger on. “Jen?” he called out, only to hear his voice bounce around the room with no answer. That was odd as Jensen should have been home for hours already. Turning to the living room, he noticed almost immediately a small, framed picture of the two of them, usually nestled on a shelf between Mario Brothers’ figures and other knickknacks they had both collected over the years, wasn’t there. It was Jared’s favorite of them together. A friend had taken it while they both wrestled over a PS3 controller that Jared was dangling over Jensen’s head, huge smiles plastered on both their faces, mouths inches away from kissing each other. Jared had a custom frame for it, with the inscription “Menacing the Midget” along the bottom. Although he acted indignant about it, Jensen had been the one to prominently display the photo, frame and all, in the main room. And now it was gone. A feeling of dread began to churn in his stomach._

_Racing into the bedroom, he threw open their closet door. Like some clichéd soap opera, almost half the closet was empty, wire hangers like skeletons dangling accusingly on Jensen’s side. “No,” Jared whispered, “nonononono.” And then he went from room to room, taking a grim inventory of what was gone. Although his mind refused to process it at the time, most of the things that made the apartment “Jensen” just weren’t there anymore. Books, his Kane CDs, golf clubs…all gone. He whipped out his phone, but found no new messages waiting for him, no missed calls, no explanations. And he practically collapsed on the kitchen floor when he dialed Jensen’s number only to hear, with computerized finality, “I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”_

Jared winced at the memory and felt fresh tears leak out of his eyes and drip down his face. It hurt as much now as it did when he was sitting on that linoleum floor, alone, refusing to accept the evidence right in front of him. But it hurt more to hear his sister lay it out like that – objectively and maybe a little dispassionately. How could he argue with her when he looked at it that way? Maybe this _was_ just a big, fat case of denial and he needed to pull himself together. But even as he started to be reasonable, logical, he sabotaged himself in one fell swoop. “Maybe he had a good reason,” he started, still so ready to offer an excuse, to hold onto some hope.

Now it was Alex’s turn to snort. “I’ll bet he did. Did you forget the last project he was involved with, Jared? A man was murdered at the site and then Jensen disappeared into the wind.”

“Hard not to forget that,” Jared admitted. “But I know he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“How do you know?” she asked him. “How do you really know? The man has no family that you know of, no ties to the area. That murder happened and he was simply gone.”

Jared struggled to sit up, liquor and exhaustion finally taking their toll. All he could see in his mind’s eye was a pair of soulful, green eyes. “Because I know him, all right? I know Jensen,” he repeated, not sure who he was trying to convince more. “And you’re wrong,” he added. “He did have a family here…a home. I was his home.” His voice broke on the last sentence and his sister hugged him closer, not letting him go.

“I just want you to stop hurting, baby brother,” she admitted, rocking him gently. “I just want to make it better for you.”

But Jared didn’t think anything could make it better ever again.


	2. May

**May**

Jensen shivered and flipped up his collar. The wool lining itched like mad where it rubbed up against his skin. He absently scratched at the base of his neck before tucking his hands awkwardly back into the handwarmer pockets of his Filson’s packer coat. It was a good coat – waterproof, sturdy, kept the Devil’s Club from tearing at him on hikes. Those thorns, even the little ones, were a bitch to pull out otherwise. But although he’d had it for months, the tin cloth was still stiff and ungainly; it hadn’t broken in. Jensen simply felt like he was wearing an ill-fitting shell –someone else’s skin – and he guessed that was true after a fashion.

He shifted his perch on the algae slick log where he sat, bracing a foot against the stub of a branch, and let the sounds around him lull him into a half daze, breathing in the tangy air. The waters of the bay lapped rhythmically along the rocky shore, a gentle splash nearby accompanied by a muffled crashing in the distance. Jensen had learned to like this time of day. He’d never been a morning person before…things…happened. But now he found some semblance of peace right before sunrise. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine, just for a minute, that he wasn’t alone. The feeling never lasted long.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to the left. Jensen let his gaze drift along the shoreline of Kachemak Bay, taking in the view in the surreal, predawn light. The tide was fairly low, exposing smooth sand as well as the pebbles and rocks that made up the shore. The horizon was slowly changing color. The sooty, bruised sky above, intersected by the mountains below, was starting to catch fire. Between the peaks, a hole punched through the darkness, oozing across the horizon, and molten gold bubbled out over the clouds, cascading across the sky. The glow from sunrise made the wet sand shine like copper and sent splashes of that same color across the clouds above. Jensen sat there, feeling his butt numb with the cold, and wondered if the men caught up in Klondike Gold Rush fever saw a sky like this and took it as a sign of fortune and glory only a little farther ahead. Something just over that next hill, just around the bend, something to drive them farther and farther away from all that they knew. When the sun edged above the distinctive arrow-point of China Poot Peak, Jensen decided it was time to head back. Traci was probably waiting for his answer anyways. She was a morning person, too.

Moving carefully, even though the moccasin-like soles of his hunting boots gripped the shore, Jensen walked with his head down. Feeling slowly returned to his backside with every step and it reminded him that he had gotten more chilled than he should have. Carelessness like that was always dangerous out in the elements, no matter how close shelter might be or how appropriately someone was dressed. Jensen knew better than that. Nothing could be taken for granted. He had learned that lesson a long time ago and it should have stuck better than this.

Turning left near the boat launch that stuck out like a sore thumb on the shore, Jensen walked along the loosely marked trail and headed inland. He didn’t have far to go, but already the salt in the air mutated into something that was still sharp, but now needle-green and richer. The shore pines and black spruce surrounded the cove, only parting to reveal the main portion of a lodge, nestled behind a sizeable deck. He stood for a moment to appreciate the structure.

Shayeq Lodge was striking. Not as elaborate as Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water, it still had a similar, organic feel to it, as though it was a part of the cove and not an intruder. The steep pitch of the front portion of the green-coated steel roof resembled the pines surrounding it. The deck took advantage of the abrupt drop-off between the hill above and the cove. The joists resembled roots coming out of the soil from a distance and not the support beams that they actually were. To the casual eye, the whole thing might have looked shaky, but Jensen knew that deck was as well buttressed as the rest of the log residence. The wood as well as much of the rockwork that decorated both the exterior and interior of the main house was all harvested locally. The lodge was a natural addition to the wilderness of the Kenai Peninsula.

The meandering path that wound to the left of the building wasn’t too steep, but was definitely not the most direct way to the lodge. However, to have done that would have required carving out steps in the steep hillside and Jensen remembered Traci telling him there was no way she could do it in a manner to meet OSHA and Americans with Disabilities Act standards and still keep it in the same style as the lodge. That was why, she grumbled, the boat launch was also so “absolutely fugly”. But at least the route from the cove to the lodge looked like a natural, if well-maintained, trail. It was still a bit of a hike.

By the time Jensen entered the lodge, his body parts had warmed up enough that he had feeling in them again. He pulled off his coat and gave it a good shake before hanging it on the coat rack. He stomped his boots once or twice on the woven rag rug by the door to make sure they were relatively free of needles and pebbles before moving the short distance over to the large river rock fireplace that was a focal point of the main room. Traci was obviously up because the fire was already well past the kindling stage. As Jensen rubbed his hands briskly in front of the flames, he could hear the faint sounds of music coming from the back office over the snap and pop of the logs. Placebo’s “Scene of the Crime”, if he wasn’t mistaken, and wasn’t that simply ironic in an Alanis Morissette kind of way?

The golden rays of the sun shone through the gigantic picture window beside the fireplace, bouncing off the smooth log walls. The wood had aged to a deep, rich patina, like the well cared for floor and exposed roof rafters. Between that and the orange from the firelight, the room felt inviting and cozy. Traci had chosen the furniture with care. Overstuffed leather couches and chairs were strategically placed around the room, with Pendleton wool blankets tossed haphazardly over the backs of some, matching throw pillows on others. The dark leather was a good choice both in the sense of the décor and for durability; it withstood a lot of wear and tear and the lodge got its fair share during the busier, tourist seasons like the one that was fast approaching.

“So?” a voice asked from behind him.

Jensen turned and saw that Traci was now standing behind the front desk area, scribbling in a large ledger by the light of a Mission-style lamp. Ms. Dinwiddie espoused a more archaic view when it came to bookkeeping. “Bookkeeping,” she had said on more than one occasion, “is meant for books, not software that turned into a ‘blue screen of death’ at a moment’s notice”. She was wearing a tank top covered by an open plaid shirt over her worn jeans, several amulets and necklaces dangling over her cleavage, and multiple leather bracelets adorned her arms. Traci raised her head and gave Jensen a funny look.

“What?” Jensen finally said as he ambled over.

Traci jerked her chin at him. “I still haven’t gotten used to the new ‘do,” she explained and waggled her fingers in the general direction of her own hair.

“Mine or yours?” he quipped as he leaned against the counter opposite her.

“Ass,” she replied as she slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. She proceeded to draw herself to her full height of 5’6”, still a good six or seven inches shorter than Jensen, shake her head so that her hair fanned across her eyes and announced, “I look fabulous.” Jensen snickered and shifted so that he was resting both his forearms on the counter, hands clasped together.

“It’s clear,” she continued, “that this coif was worth flying into Anchorage for. Why you went into Homer for that buzz cut is beyond me.” She leaned down and started to rummage through a drawer Jensen couldn’t see the contents of. “You could have saved yourself the trip for that because I’m sure I’ve got some dog clippers in here somewhere.”

As soon as she said “clippers”, Jensen heard the distinctive _thump-thwap_ of a tail hitting the floor. He peered over the counter and, sure enough, Crash was stretched out behind Traci. The best they could figure was that the dog was a chocolate Lab crossed with something bigger and shaggier. And he loved being groomed, unlike a lot of dogs. And he loved Traci most of all for taking him in when she found him shivering and scrounging for food along the shore. She had a soft spot for strays. Jensen could attest to that personally.

“Thanks, but I prefer to place my trust in the hands of professionals,” he snarked. “You never did say why you lopped off your locks,” he responded and then Jensen wanted to kick himself because he knew he’d left himself wide open.

“You first,” she bargained, never one to miss an opportunity. “Why the changeup? I sort of miss my County Cork mountain man.” And she rubbed her chin and cheeks to remind Jensen of his former beard.

He sighed. “I guess after five months, I wanted to see if the old adage really was true that blonds have more fun. It seemed easier to just cut off the old color and go from there. Your turn,” he added to shift the focus back over to her.

“To be honest,” she answered as she ran the fingers of one hand through her short hair, “it’s easier to manage. And as I’m getting a little long in the tooth, it seemed time.”

Jensen laughed. “Yeah, right, ‘long in the tooth’,” he mimicked while standing up to make air quotes with his fingers. He didn’t know for sure, but thought Traci was in her forties, still very much a woman in her prime. Definitely not a woman who needed to sport a “mommy cut” out of necessity. And then a thought suddenly struck him. “J.D. likes short hair, doesn’t he?” He wasn’t sure but he thought Traci might’ve blushed a bit at that. Egged on by her silence, he continued, “He was totally going on and on about Demi Moore when we all watched _Ghost_ together last month for your ‘90’s movie night marathon’. That’s it, isn’t it?” he crowed in delight.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I remember about that night was you ruining _The Usual Suspects_ for me,” she snapped back.

Traci pursed her lips and walked over to the glass display cabinets behind her, fiddling around for the switches. Suddenly, the discreet lighting revealed the collection of local and historical pieces of art Traci had amassed over the years. There were cedar bark baskets and smaller ones woven from smoked grasses used to collect berries. Tiny sculptures made out of shed caribou antlers filled one shelf, while another was covered with pieces of fossilized wooly mammoth and walrus tusks from St. Lawrence Island, about eight hundred miles west of Kachemak Bay. There were antique qayaq making tools along with bone spear points for fishing and an Inupiat style ulu for cutting animal skins. Each piece had a story and Traci knew them all, backwards and forwards.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she finally demanded, apparently refusing to admit that she might have done something so drastic to her hair all to catch J.D.’s eye. “I was serious, you know?”

Jensen’s smug grin faded as he realized that he couldn’t avoid her offer any longer.

Before he could say anything, she moved back over to the counter and placed her small, strong hand over one of his. “Look, you know when Jim asked if I’d put you up, no questions asked, I had no problem with it. I mean, Beaver and I go way back and since he was footing the bill, I was certainly not going to complain. And you could have sat around, enjoyed the view and the food and we would have gotten along just fine.” Jensen nodded along. “But you picked up so much about the local wildlife, pitched in with the kitchen help and I lost count of how many cords of wood you’ve split for me. Hell, you know the trails so well I’m surprised you haven’t drawn up survey maps of ‘em. And you’ve definitely got a deft hand at repairs. I don’t know how long fixing the chinking to some of the guest cabins would’ve taken me without you around to help. I honestly feel like I should have been paying you. But your time’s coming to an end here and I’m woman enough to admit I’d miss your ugly mug if you took off.” She paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Around here we say that there are two kinds of folks who live in Alaska – the ones that are born here and the ones that are running away from something else. And I know you weren’t born here.” Jensen met her gaze sharply at that bit of homespun logic. She nodded. “But Jim Beaver’s a decent enough sort and I don’t believe he’d drop a bunch of trouble in my lap. At least, not a heap of trouble,” she amended with a smile. “So here’s my offer one more time.

“Stay on for a while. I’ll provide food and lodging, as well as that pay I mentioned. In return, you keep doing what you’ve been doing, plus when tourist season really kicks in, you take the lead as the resident naturalist and guide,” she finished.

“What about Misha?” Jensen asked, startled by the last bit.

Traci smirked. “I’m going to keep him in the kitchen where he belongs and I might let him out once in a while to offer yoga lessons or whatever to the guests who are into that sort of thing. But no more nature walks for Blue Eyes. The last time I let him do that, I found him sitting on the shore with a half dozen people as he tried to convince them to commune with the rocks!” she sputtered.

Jensen covered his mouth and tried hard not to burst out into laughter at the memory. It had been quite a sight to see Misha trying to help a chubby man in his sixties, who was dressed in hideous board shorts and knee socks, to sit cross-legged and become “one with the stones”. The man’s legs simply wouldn’t bend that way no matter what Misha tried. Jensen couldn’t help himself and he dropped his head to the counter, overcome with giggles. Traci tried to keep a straight face, but it didn’t last very long, either. Crash perked his head up at the sound of laughter and started thumping his tail in earnest, wanting in on the joke, too. Eventually, Jensen got a handle on his composure and lifted his head to wipe at his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, “nature walks might not be his forte. I was remembering how he tried to massage that guy’s legs into position and they kept popping back up.” He had to slap his hand over his mouth again to stop the chuckle that was building up.

“You think?” Traci laughed. “The man knows how to grill a salmon that would leave Gordon Ramsay in tears of joy and his butternut squash soup is to die for, but he’s a bit of a menace trying to teach strangers his take on nature. Don’t worry, Jensen,” she assured him, “I don’t think he’ll be too hurt if the organic garden is the only thing he’ll have to commune with and care for around here. And I can always let him give tours of that if he really wants to. Or if anybody’s stupid enough to want to take one.”

Jensen rested his elbow on the counter and leaned his head against his hand. Turning to face her, Jensen contemplated his words carefully. “I don’t know how long I’d be willing to stay,” he finally decided that honesty was the way to go with Traci. At least, as much honesty as he could offer.

Traci nodded and countered, “Well, I’d expect a full season out of you. It would be a bit of a pain to find a replacement mid-summer, so there’s that. Beyond August, we can renegotiate. This isn’t charity,” she admitted, “and it would be a job, meaning work that I’d be depending on you to complete. So what do say?”

Jensen straightened up and looked around the room, but not really seeing anything in front of his eyes. He was thinking of places and people a lot farther away. He nodded to himself and turned back to Traci, holding out his hand.

“I’m yours for the summer,” he promised her.

Traci gave him a lopsided grin and shook hands with him. As always, Jensen was surprised at the strength the petite woman had in her grip. “Done,” she agreed, before extricating her hand from the handshake and slapping it against Jensen’s muscled chest again. “Now that that’s settled, take this mangy mutt,” she jerked her head towards Crash, “outside. That wood out back isn’t going to split itself.” With that, she scooped up her ledger and returned to the back office.

Jensen shook his head ruefully and smiled as Crash, who had scrambled to his feet with a flurry of clicking nails as soon as he heard the word “outside”, bounded out from behind the counter to look longingly at Jensen. He stared down at the champagne-eyed mutt for a few seconds before sighing.

“All right, buddy, let’s shake a leg. I never could resist a set of puppy eyes anyway,” he told Crash. And just for a moment, Jensen grew solemn as he remembered another set of “puppy eyes”. He dragged his hand over his mouth and really took in his surroundings before nodding to himself, coming to a silent conclusion. “For now,” he whispered.


	3. June

**June**

Jared hoisted his bike up to join those of his other coworkers. Five already hung from the mountings against the exposed brick walls at the offices of Sterling Designs, Inc. The entrance to the architectural firm was a vast, open space of brick walls, natural rock flooring and blackboards. A collection of two foot tall letters in yellow spelling out the word “PLAY” leaned against the wall to the left of the bike rack where all the bikes hung vertically out from the wall. A variety of prints featuring local artists strategically decorated some of the wall space. Two cleverly constructed bookcases utilized protruding, but now defunct, pipework to hold up tomes for public perusal. A few of the firm’s bigger names had been published in their field and they were prominently displayed for visitors to see and appreciate.

Jared readjusted his messenger bag and entered the main offices, where the rock slabs were replaced with natural finish wood floors. He smiled and nodded to the receptionist, a young man named Gabe Tigerman. Gabe seemed a decent enough sort, but apparently had few aspirations beyond his current position. Jared suspected Gabe liked to toke up a bit too much on his off-hours, but he was nothing but professional while at work. And, to be honest, Jared only came to the conclusion that Gabe was a bit of a stoner when he finally got a good look at the young man’s van one day. The Valkyrie – and that was the most generous way that Jared could describe the knockoff Boris Vallejo borderline pornographic design painted along the body of the vehicle – with the blinking nipples and polar bear companion kind of made it obvious. And the four foot bong he caught sight of when Gabe opened the back doors sealed the deal as to the guy’s after-hours activities. But Jared could admit he might have been looking for an ulterior motive for Gabe’s contentment out of a touch of jealousy. For the last, few months, he’d eyed more than one of his new coworkers and wondered just how they got through the day while he struggled to. That behavior was an aspect of himself Jared didn’t want to scrutinize too closely.

He moved silently over the wood flooring, maneuvering through the various conference and brain-storming zones, all with the same open floor plan as the waiting area, to his office. He and several other architects had cordoned off spaces so that there was some privacy and escape from office noise and chatter. Closing the door quietly, Jared slung his bag on the hook at the back of the door while he toed off his sneakers. He swapped them out for a pair of loafers that he kept, along with a spare pair of pants, in a discreet cubby hole near the door. Now that he worked closer to his apartment, he always biked in, especially if he thought there might be an after-hours get-together with his colleagues; it kept him from the off chance of driving home drunk, because he was never chosen as the designated driver, since he couldn’t very well take people home on his handlebars.  After everything Jensen had been through, Jared would never ever get behind the wheel if he’d had a drink. That hadn’t changed with his lover’s departure. With practiced ease, Jared pulled his notebook out of his bag and slipped into the chair behind his desk.

Jared’s office, while not of the same caliber as a partner’s, was not too shabby and a step up from the one at his old firm. That one had been haunted by the memories of shared lunch hours and stolen kisses. Jared was only too eager to leave those ghosts behind even as his heart hurt to abandon the women who ran the place. He had a more than decent view of the city here and plenty of light for most of the day. As clichéd as it sounded, light was important to Jared’s environment. While much of his design work was done via computer programs, Jared had a drafting table alongside one wall and tools strewn across his desk. At his old office, he used to keep a few pictures of Jensen scattered there as well, but when he changed firms, they hadn’t made a reappearance. His sister thought that he’d finally gotten rid of them and that it was a sign of progress in her one woman “operation rehab baby brother” program. What she didn’t know was that they had only migrated as far as the interior of a desk drawer now and not into the trash, as she had assumed. He might be moving on, but if he was honest with himself, snails moved faster than he did.

Opening up 3ds Max, Jared started to double check some modifications he had made to a project the previous night. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t hear the discreet cough coming from his now open doorway. Finally, a sharp rapping caught his attention and he looked up towards the source of the disturbance with a hint of annoyance. That annoyance, however, quickly faded when he saw who it was leaning against his doorway and Jared smiled. “Tahmoh,” he acknowledged.

Tahmoh Penikett was an addition even newer than he was to Sterling Designs, having come onboard about three months prior. He’d replaced the company’s head of marketing, Samantha Ferris, who had retired rather abruptly, much to everyone’s surprise. The entire office staff was sad to see her leave. In the short time Jared knew her, she struck him as a no nonsense kind of person with the ability to charm the devil himself, which was quite useful in the ad game. But no one could begrudge her departure when a family member had needed long-term care. Sterling K. Brown himself had been the one to remind his staff that family always came first, no matter what. Of course, his disappointment at losing such an effective team member was probably mitigated by Tahmoh’s timely arrival.

From the East Coast, Tahmoh had worked for some non-architectural firms and Jared was a little surprised that Sterling had hired him, since he’d no experience in their field. Once he discovered the impressive network of contacts Tahmoh possessed, however, Jared understood Sterling’s reasoning. His boss wasn’t the first person to impress upon Jared that it wasn’t what you knew, but who you knew for certain aspects of a company to survive and succeed. And it wasn’t that Sterling Designs was struggling; quite the contrary, the company was thriving. They were doing so well, in fact, that Sterling had not only insisted Jared volunteer his time for another community project like the one that had brought Jared to his attention in the first place, he even told Jared he would cover his hours for it. Jared could be as realistic as the next man and recognized that not only would his salary be a tax deduction for his boss, but if his new project garnered as much positive press as his last had, the company would more than make up for his “lost” wages with the kind of recognition money couldn’t buy. Sterling was by no means a frivolous man. And he knew what he was doing when he hired Tahmoh, too.

“You busy?” Tahmoh asked. Jared was always startled by his voice. A little taller than Jensen, but shorter than himself, Jared thought he would have had a deeper baritone, but Tahmoh was a soft-spoken man with a gentle voice.

Jared made sure to save his file before responding. “Nothing that can’t keep,” he replied. “What’s up?”

Tahmoh moved into the room a little more and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms against his chest and said, “Sterling’s called a team meeting in the main conference room in fifteen minutes. Thought I’d save you the trouble of reading the interoffice email and deliver the message in person. But,” he continued, “you’ve probably checked your emails at least a half dozen times already this morning, haven’t you?”

Jared smiled at the man. Out of everyone there, Tahmoh was the person Jared felt most comfortable with. He reasoned it might have to do with the fact that Tahmoh and he were the new hires at the firm and he’d met Tahmoh after the whole Jensen debacle. Tahmoh didn’t know Jensen and, by association, didn’t know _JaredandJensen_. So he didn’t pester Jared to act a certain way, or behave differently because he didn’t know Jared from before. And that was also probably why he was the only one who could bring up Jensen without getting his head bitten clean off.

“As a matter of fact,” Jared countered, “I haven’t opened my email up all morning.” He wanted to prove something, if only to himself.

“So, still no word?” Tahmoh wondered.

Rising from his chair, Jared turned and faced the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.” There was a soft scraping sound from behind him and, after a moment, a pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders.

“There’s no judgement here, Jared,” Tahmoh told him. “It’s okay to hold out hope that Jensen will come back. I know you haven’t given up on him yet and there’s a reason why. Trust your instincts,” he added and shook Jared’s shoulders slightly for emphasis.

Jared lowered his head and smiled. He reached across and clapped a hand against one of Tahmoh’s. “Thanks, man,” he eventually answered quietly. “You know, you’re the only one around here who doesn’t judge me for this,” and he waved a hand back and forth in front of himself, trying to encapsulate everything that was his relationship with Jensen in that vague gesture. When he shifted around, he found himself staring into solemn green eyes. They just weren’t green enough.

“I can’t explain it really,” Tahmoh continued. “I mean, I never met the man, but if you still feel so strongly about him, there must be something there. What can I say? I have a feeling,” he added hopefully. Then he gave Jared’s shoulders another shake. “Anyway, let’s go see what the big boss man wants, shall we?” he grinned to lighten the somber mood.

“Let me close out this program and I’ll be right there. Save me a seat, will ya?” Jared joked as more often than not, it was Tahmoh who ran late and Jared who kept a place set aside for him.

“You got it,” Tahmoh replied as he left.

Jared double checked that he had saved his 3ds file and shut down his laptop. He made sure he had his phone handy in case he needed to take notes for the meeting and then moved to head out. By the door, he noticed a framed document was crooked and realized that was the noise he’d heard earlier. Tahmoh must have bumped it with his shoulder when he pushed away from the wall. Jared immediately straightened it out. It was this year’s AIA Community Vision Award, given out only last week. The American Institute of Architects Austin branch gave out this recognition annually to an individual or organization that was instrumental in moving forward an affordable housing initiative in the Greater Austin area. He and Jensen had won it for their “Community First” housing project, a brainchild born on a rainy Saturday last February.

_“In here,” Jared answered from the kitchen._

_Jensen trudged in, shaking off the rain like a dog, Home Depot bags clutched in his hands. “Man, that was miserable. Who would have thought finding well nuts would be such a bitch?” He plopped his wet purchases on the counter and leaned over to give Jared a quick kiss._

_“That’s probably because of the weird ass sizes you needed,” Jared said after they parted._

_Jensen shrugged his agreement. “Yeah, probably.”_

_Jared noticed he seemed a little distracted. “Here,” he said and handed him an open bottle of Samuel Adams. “Go dry off and have a seat in the other room and I’ll be right there. I need to add one thing, set this to simmer and I’ll join you.”_

_Jensen smiled and headed out of their kitchen. Jared chopped up a bit more garlic and tossed it into his mother’s “super-secret sauce” recipe that he swore she merely stole from Ragu before turning the heat down under it. He grabbed a fresh beer and joined Jensen in the living room._

_Jensen was sitting in the middle of their sectional, with his legs resting on top of the coffee table and crossed at the ankles. Jared watched as he absently picked at the corner of the beer label, seemingly lost in thought. Jared, sensing something was up, carefully lowered himself into the corner spot and shifted to face him. When Jensen didn’t say anything after a minute, Jared placed his hand over the one that was busy tearing at the label._

_“What’s up?” he asked, cocking his head to the side._

_Jensen stilled his peeling as soon as Jared’s fingers touched his and gave him a sad smile. “You know me too well, Jay,” he admitted._

_“I like to think so,” Jared agreed._

_Jensen set his bottle on top of an older copy of Architectural Digest and dragged a hand down over his face, stopping when his fingers rested against his full lips, seeming to collect himself. “When I left Home Depot, I had to hook a right at the underpass of I35 and Ben White Blvd. It was raining worse than it is now and you know where the girders of I35 are, right?” Jared nodded but didn’t interrupt. “Well, there must have been about twenty folks huddled under there, with their packs and full garbage bags, sitting and staring at the rain. You know…homeless,” he sighed. “And it’s not like I’ve never seen them before, but for some reason today it just hit me: these people have no homes, nowhere else to go. And I just got to wondering what in the world happened, you know? I mean, I lost everything when I was sixteen and…” Jensen trailed off._

_Jared reached over and began running his long fingers through Jensen’s short, dark blond locks to try and soothe him and offer what comfort he could. He didn’t need Jensen to finish that train of thought. He knew full well Jensen was talking about the drunk driver who had swerved and hit Jensen’s parent’s car, killing them all instantly. Old enough to stay home alone, Jensen’s life had been spared. But, having no other family with both sets of grandparents already passed on, he’d ended up in the foster system for two years before aging out._

_“I mean,” Jensen finally continued, “the system didn’t fail me. It was there when I needed it and got me back on my feet. And now I have a home,” he paused to grab Jared’s free hand and squeeze it hard. Jared could see tears in the other man’s eyes, “And I am so fuckin’ grateful for it. So why don’t they have one?”_

_Jared looked at Jensen for the longest time. There was such genuine concern mixed with misery on his face that Jared didn’t want to merely offer up some easy platitude that most people used to justify ignoring the plight of their fellow man. He kept up the rhythmic stroking of Jensen’s hair and really thought about the question for a moment._

_“Maybe,” he finally began, “we’re not asking the right questions. Maybe to understand homelessness, we have to first understand what home means; figure out what’s broken and go from there.” And Jensen nodded his head thoughtfully in agreement before he slid closer and tugged Jared down into a gentle kiss._

And that conversation was the beginning as he and Jensen tossed around ideas, theories and half-formed solutions. The concept they settled on was more than a single dwelling or shelter. What they envisioned was the groups of homeless were already a rag-tag family that didn’t need a single home; they needed a community to get back on their feet again and flourish. The very nature of Jensen’s job as an environmental engineer was to provide clean water, clean air and land for human habitation. It didn’t take him long to find a nearly 30-acre tract of land that fit the bill for their dream community perfectly and government grants and funding to arrange its purchase. Between the two of them, they planned a variety of housing choices for the property, ranging from canvas sided “guest cottages” to refurbished RVs to “micro houses” that they were able to involve the students of the University of Texas School of Architecture in their design. In addition to open cooking areas and washroom facilities similar to those found at formal campsites, the planned community had space for gardens and chicken coops. Local doctors and dentists had signed on to provide low-cost health care and a few nearby businesses had agreed to create projects that would offer the community members the chance to learn or brush up on skills they could include as job experience on any résumé when looking for more permanent jobs.

Jared smiled softly as he brushed his fingers against the award before closing the door and walking to the main conference area. Like the other areas of the office, this portion also featured exposed brick walls mixed with naked cinder blocks. The ceilings had very visible ductwork and pipes, but it was all painted a dull, cement gray. One wall was simply a blackboard that Gabe was currently doodling what looked suspiciously like penises. Jared shook his head in silent laughter and snagged the rolling chair next to Tahmoh.

Along with those two, the other lead designers, Katie Cassidy and Stephen Amell were sitting next to each other, heads bent. As Jared watched the two blondes in deep conversation, he found himself once again wondering if they were a couple and felt the familiar pang of loss. Almost as though he knew what Jared was thinking, Tahmoh knocked his chair into Jared’s and then grinned like a little kid. Jared couldn’t resist the look and smiled back. When he was completely dispassionate about it, Jared couldn’t deny that Tahmoh was very attractive. In his mid-thirties, only a few years older than Jared, he had a smattering of gray in his light brown hair (“just a little darker than Jensen’s,” his mind offered treacherously), which he kept fairly close cropped. Clean shaven, he had a wide chin with a strong jaw. He was an all-around classically handsome man.

Before that train of thought could go any farther, the rest of the main staff, as well as Sterling Brown himself, entered the space. While the general air of the room was casual, certain protocols were still followed. The only one to claim the chair placed at the head of the table was, of course, Sterling.

No one knew how old Sterling was. It wasn’t a piece of information he offered willingly about himself. The best Jared could guess was the man was potentially in his late forties or early fifties. He was obviously fit, judging by his physique, and he kept his black hair shorn close to his skull. His moustache and goatee didn’t have a spot of silver, however, and the skin around his eyes had only the barest traces of crows’ feet. The dark-skinned man was always impeccably dressed, even on days when he allowed his staff to wear casual attire, and never appeared mussed or harried.

“Thank you,” he began, in his melodious baritone, “for all arriving on time. I know that can be a challenge to some.” At this, he shot a quick glance over at Tahmoh, who had the good sense to blush. No matter how good someone might be at their job, Sterling had certain expectations of them all and punctuality was one of them. The newest member of Sterling Designs, Inc. had a tendency to get caught up in conversations with potential clients and sponsors and often showed up to the weekly team meetings a bit late or distracted. Sterling wasn’t above public reminders when his expectations weren’t being met. And his message was clearly received this time.

“At any rate, ladies and gentlemen, the reason we’re here today is to discuss the annual, corporate retreat.” At the mention of this, there were barely restrained groans. Jared was hard pressed not to join in as well. His former firm had had their share of them and they had always consisted of forays to bed and breakfast inns around the area. Places that were far enough away from home not to get distracted by familiar attractions, but not far enough to make you feel like you really went anywhere. And most of the week was spent in traditional, team-building exercises that were mind-numbing at best. Jared had built a pen and pencil fort at one of them simply to keep from losing his mind and to annoy the facilitators, who subsequently couldn’t manage to find any writing implements for an essay assignment the same afternoon. He didn’t imagine that Sterling Designs, Inc. would be any different. If he had to, he could rise to the occasion and construct another fort again.

“I can see by the joyful looks on your faces,” Sterling continued, “you’re as eager for this year’s retreat as I am.” Jared was learning that his boss could be droll when it suited him. “I mean, we’ve had quite the year with the addition of new staff,” he nodded to Tahmoh and Jared, “to last week’s prestigious recognition by the AIA Austin for Jared’s amazing efforts before he joined us. ‘To understand homelessness, we must first understand what home is’”, he quoted, “was a brilliant concept from start to finish and brought together portions of our community in an impressive way. A moment of recognition, please.” At this, Sterling started to clap, soon joined in by the rest of the staff. Now it was Jared’s turn to blush and he ducked his head down, hiding his face behind the curtain of his bangs.

“And,” Sterling resumed after an appropriate beat, “I expect to see future projects of the same caliber from you all and not have you resting on your laurels. To put it frankly, we’ve had a good year and our prospects for the next fiscal year appear even better. So, for this year’s corporate retreat, I’ve decided to embrace the motto of ‘go big or go home’.”

Jared and Tahmoh as well as several others traded curious looks.

“And what’s bigger than Texas?” Sterling quizzed his employees.

“Alaska,” Gabe chimed in. And while it was true, Jared thought, that technically the only state in the U.S. that was bigger than Texas was Alaska, there was no way the 49th state was going to be their destination. Jared could not picture Sterling anywhere that remote and in anything other than a suit. It had to be somewhere or something else.

“Correct deduction, Mr. Tigerman, despite your dubious art skills,” Sterling confirmed, much to everyone’s astonishment. “We will be flying up next week.” He pulled a small stack of papers from his ever-present leather portfolio and proceeded to circle the table, placing one sheet in front of each employee.

“Here you’ll find a suggested clothing list and other weather related information you might need for the location. Any other details you might be curious about I’m sure we can cover before our departure.”

Glancing at the list, Jared wondered if Sterling even owned a single item suggested below and he snickered at the thought that his boss might be placing an overnight delivery order to REI in the very near future, if he hadn’t already.

“All right, folks, that will be all,” he dismissed. “I hope you all will be looking forward to our escape to Kachemak Bay as much as I am.”


	4. June 7th

**June 7 th**

 

“Jared, look!” Tahmoh said as he reached across the narrow space between their seats, nudging Jared in his side. Jared, for his part, had a death grip on his armrests and his eyes screwed shut.

“What? Is it something bad?” he asked, scrunching up his face even more. “It’s something bad, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s incredible. Open your eyes, man,” Tahmoh urged, “trust me.”

Jared hadn’t cracked open his eyes since shortly after take-off twenty minutes prior. He’d taken one look at the fire engine red floatplane at Anchorage’s Lake Hood Seaplane Base and nearly changed his mind about the whole venture. It wasn’t that he had a fear of flying exactly, but planes, in his humble opinion, should only take off and land on solid ground. Planes and water mixed together just seemed like a bad combination to him. And the “airport” looked like a marsh posing as a parking lot. Their pilot, a gruff spoken man named J.D. Morgan, seemed to pick up on his unease when he helped Jared and Tahmoh navigate the spindly ladder steps into the belly of the plane.

“This is a Cessna 206H Stationairs on floats,” the fifty-something explained mostly to Jared as he stowed the men’s gear in the rear of the small aircraft and fastened the cargo net in place. After a perfunctory check to make sure they were both fastened in, J.D. jumped out and grabbed the clamshell doors. “It may not look like much,” he added, “but she’s got it where it counts, kid. I’ve made a lot of special modifications myself.” With that, he winked and slammed the hatch shut. By the time he had opened the co-pilot door and was sliding across to the pilot’s seat, Jared was muttering to Tahmoh, “Great. Han Solo’s our pilot. I feel so much better now.”

“I heard that!” J.D. snapped as he pulled a baseball cap on, covering his salt-and-pepper hair, and situated his headset over it. He turned back and flashed them a wicked grin. “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride,” he smirked.

“’Night’,” Jared corrected him while frantically grabbing his armrests as the plane began to taxi down the lake. “Bette Davis said ‘night’, not ‘ride’, in _All About Eve_!”

Eyes ahead of him, J.D. raised a fist with his forefinger extended and snapped it forward once. “Close enough,” he shouted back over the drone of the engine. And that had been the last sight Jared had until now.

“This better be worth it,” he mumbled and slowly peeled his eyes open to discover it totally was. The landscape out the small window to his left stole his breath away.

Speeding below him were jagged chunks of ice that glinted blue in the late afternoon sun and went on as far as he could see. They burst out of the ground like some otherworldly garden of frozen alchemy.  “Wow,” he whispered, humbled and at a loss for words.

Tahmoh grinned at him. “Told you it was worth it.”

“Absolutely,” Jared agreed, transfixed by the sight. As one piece of ice after another burst out of the ground, with no reference to clue him in as to how big it all was, it was an ocean of white hemmed in by mountains. And as his gaze drifted farther along, he couldn’t help but notice the more he looked, the more the sections of ice started to resemble buildings stacked up against each other, forming a frozen, alien skyline. He found himself tracing its outline on the plane window, unconscious of his actions.

When he finally tore his eyes from the scene, he said as much to Tahmoh. “It looks like some kind of futuristic metropolis, doesn’t it?”

Tahmoh turned back to his window and gave it a little thought. “Is that what you see?” he asked. “To me, the ice looks like row after row of snaggled teeth or maybe splintered ribs erupting from the earth.” Jared was a little shocked at the description, but Tahmoh merely shrugged and smiled. “Pretty clear to see why I’m in advertising and you’re the architect, huh?”

“I guess,” Jared replied with the hint of a smile. “Didn’t realize your imagination ran quite so gruesome, my friend.”

Tahmoh shrugged. “I’m full of surprises,” he joked, tugging his jacket a little tighter. It was chilly in the small plane and Jared found himself glad that he had dressed in layers.

From up front, J.D. flipped his mic towards his forehead and announced, “Glad to see you’re back with us, Jared. Right now we are roughly in the middle of the Kenai Fjords National Park. Directly below is the Harding Icefield. It’s roughly 300 square miles and has about 40 odd glaciers, Exit Glacier being the most well-known since it’s not too far from a road and people can actually drive almost right to it.”

“It’s amazing,” Jared called back, his fear of the floatplane almost completely forgotten in the moment.

“One of only four icefields in the U.S., kid,” J.D. added, “and the largest that’s entirely located within this country. It gets about four hundred inches of snow a year.”

Jared was shaking his head in wonder as he glanced out the window again. At that moment, J.D. swooped lower, skimming his plane above the peaks and valleys of the icefield like a gentle caress. Jared reached blindly in his pocket and pulled out his phone to snap a few, quick shots. He couldn’t get over how it appeared like a cityscape to him and he briefly remembered the Magic Rocks kit he and Alex had got one Christmas when they were little. The two of them had spent hours staring at the small tank full of crystals, watching them twist and grow. Jared thought of them as enchanted towers in a magic city and Alex had made up elaborate tales of underwater knights living within them to Jared’s extreme delight. But those chemical constructs couldn’t hold a candle to what lay below him now.

“Now aren’t you glad you missed the bus?” Tahmoh quipped.

Tearing himself away from the window, Jared pocketed his phone and replied, “I missed the bus because you kept dragging your feet at the office and I took pity on you always being the last one to the party and didn’t want you to face the music alone.” He continued in a higher voice, “‘One more minute, Jared. Just let me make one more call.’ And that one call became two and that made us miss the flight yesterday and the bus ride to Homer this morning and now we’re in this flying deathtrap, trying to catch up to everyone else when – ” He would have carried on, but Tahmoh poked him hard in the side, aiming straight for a vulnerable spot and Jared squirmed around, trying not to giggle, when Tahmoh succeeded.

“Well, it’s not my fault Sterling decided to pick the wilds of Alaska with ‘limited to no cell phone coverage’,” Tahmoh explained, quoting one of the caveats from their packing list. “Unlike you,” he gestured in the general direction of Jared’s messenger bag, “who can take your work with you wherever you go, I had to wrap some deals up before I was incommunicado for a week and a half. You know what it’s like trying to explain to a bunch of suits that you’re going to be running around in the woods wearing flannel?” He tugged at his shirt for emphasis.

Somewhat soberly, Jared agreed, “I know it will be a little tough, but you’re not one of those guys who can’t disconnect, are you? This could be fun, you know.”

Tahmoh tilted his head and scratched at his ear. “Never really had to think about it before,” he finally admitted. “I guess maybe I am. I kind of need to stay in touch and keep abreast of things – know where people are and what they’re doing at any given moment. To be honest, I don’t like not being in control and that’s what this feels like a little bit.”

Jared was thoughtful for a bit before an idea struck. “You think maybe that’s part of why Sterling’s doing this? Pushing us out of our comfort zones and maybe getting us to think outside the box? Do what we don’t normally do…'boldly go where no man has gone before’?” He couldn’t resist the last comment; his inner Trekkie would not be denied.

Tahmoh stared at Jared for a moment before making a sour face. “God, don’t you start on the team building already or the Star Trek philosophy. Now _I’m_ beginning to regret you didn’t make the bus yesterday with everyone else for the six hour drive to Homer instead of being with me on this amazing flight today.”

Jared wasn’t sure if Tahmoh was genuinely irked now or teasing. For all their comradery, there were times when Jared simply didn’t know how to read him. Before he could even think of a reply, the plane jerked and thumped a bit.

“Hang on, boys,” J.D. said loudly, “‘cause it’s going to get a little rough here.”

“Perfect,” Jared mumbled and he was back to holding his armrests in a vise-like grip. A quick glance out the window revealed they were leaving the icefield behind and passing through some cloud cover. Jared could barely make out the mountains to his left. He was hanging on so tightly that he almost didn’t notice when Tahmoh slid his hand over his clenched one.

“Just think of it like being on a rollercoaster,” Tahmoh suggested with a smile. “Everybody loves those, right?”

Jared relaxed a bit and nodded, returning Tahmoh’s smile as the peace offering he sensed it was. He didn’t have the heart to admit to Tahmoh that he hated rollercoasters. Jensen had teased him mercilessly about the way he had clung to the safety bar when they had gone to Six Flags over Texas on one of their first dates. Of course, Jared kind of had the last laugh there since he had immediately proceeded to lean over and throw up his cotton candy all over Jensen’s pants. And their next date hadn’t been entirely accident free, either. At a miniature golf course, The Putting Edge, Jensen had somehow become distracted – Jared was pretty sure it was over how spectacular his ass had looked in his jeans that night while bent over putting – that he had tripped and fallen into the moat around the tiny castle at the last hole. Between the water and the algae smeared all over his backside, Jensen’s pants were a lost cause that night. And a few dates later, well, they had engaged in activities which had caused Jensen’s pants to become stained for an entirely different and much more pleasant reason. Jared smiled and found himself blushing at the memory.

Tahmoh’s smile grew and he patted Jared’s hand encouragingly once more. Jared decided to let the man think it was his analogy and not thoughts of Jensen that had momentarily calmed him down. No need to keep dredging up the past, although Jared couldn’t deny he wished that it had been with Jensen that he had shared the spectacular icefield with. Maybe, he thought, he _should_ take some time on this trip and embrace Sterling’s plan of thinking outside the box. Maybe he could take an objective measure of where he was and how to finally put Jensen’s ghost to rest. He stole another look at Tahmoh, who was now engrossed in his window’s view and thought, _maybe_.

“Beluga Lake is straight ahead, boys,” J.D. announced. “We should be landing in about five minutes. I gotta warn you, though,” he continued, “that water landings are a little bit different.” And then he was silent.

Jared shot Tahmoh a nervous look, but the man only smirked in return. “Different,” he finally asked, swallowing hard, “how? Different how?” But J.D. was silent. “Freakin’ great,” Jared muttered. “From Han Solo to Yoda in one fell swoop.”

The plane banked gently to the right and Jared watched as the lake grew closer and closer, all the while tightening his grip on the armrests. He was pretty sure his fingerprints were permanently etched onto them at this point. Finally, it was too much and Jared slammed his eyes shut as the plane’s floats touched down. For the briefest moment, he thought the landing was like any other he’d experienced and J.D. had been yanking his chain. But then the plan sort of stopped abruptly and it almost felt like the aircraft was going to go ass over teakettle. Jared lurched forward hard in his seat and it did sort of remind him of a rollercoaster’s abrupt stop at the end of the ride. Good thing he hadn’t had any cotton candy on the flight from Texas to Anchorage.

When the plane drifted close enough, J.D. scrambled out the co-pilot’s door and jumped onto the small dock and tethered down the craft with the familiarity of someone who has performed the act hundreds of times before. As soon as the vehicle was secured, he unlatched the clamshell doors and smiled at Jared and Tahmoh, taking in Jared’s continued death grip of the seat. “It’s a little sticky, ain’t it?” he teased. At the moment, Jared wished he _had_ eaten recently, if only to be able to do something that would have surely wiped the smug look off their pilot’s face and given him a reason to change his pants. But he shook off the evil thought of vomiting all over the man and allowed J.D. to give him a hand descending the flimsy ladder without making a fool of himself.

When he had handed them their bags, J.D. jumped down, closed the doors and motioned for the men to follow him down the small dock. Jared would have been lying if he had said he was sorry to leave the float plane behind, but he wouldn’t have traded the memory of the icefield for just about anything. Just about.

Near a small house, J.D. ushered the men into an older Land Rover Defender. Jared took a second to appreciate the vehicle and realized that while some folks drove them for appearance’s sake and to get in touch with their inner Indiana Jones, there was nothing affected about J.D.’s need for the ride; it was built for a place like this. Jared took in the not-so-distant snowcapped mountains with their low-hanging clouds and, as they proceeded to head down Homer Spit Road – there was an economy of language when it came to names around here, apparently – the water that surrounded everything. Jared thought that nothing could ever surpass the vastness of a Texan sky, but he had to admit he might have been wrong. The place was open and beautiful; it was somewhere to get lost in.

A very short drive brought the men to a harbor. J.D. tucked into the parking lot of a bar called the Salty Dawg Saloon. It appeared to be a small, rustic cabin with a tiny lighthouse butted up against it. While J.D. removed their bags, Jared had to get a closer look and admire the construction. The cabin looked authentic enough, but Jared thought the lighthouse was a later addition although whoever had added it had done a good job trying to make the structure match the spirit of the original building, right down to the weathering of its siding. Jared trailed his fingers along the roughhewn logs of the cabin and wondered how old the building was. There were stories in the wood, of that he was certain.

“That there,” J.D. explained, as though he was a mind reader, “was one of the first things ever built here back in 1897.” So caught up in his daydreams, Jared hadn’t even noticed that Tahmoh and J.D. were now standing beside him, holding the gear. He quickly took his bags from Tahmoh and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I love things that stand the test of time,” Jared offered as an explanation for his admiration. “Nature of the job, I guess.” He smiled depreciatingly and looked at his feet before continuing. “Sometimes we get so caught up in stuff that we forget simpler is oftentimes better, you know?”

J.D. cracked a similar smile. “Well, this has been a grocery store, a railroad station, post office and even a coal mining office before becoming a saloon.” He paused, pulled off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “In the 60’s, there was a pretty big earthquake and the owner moved the building here. He built the lighthouse to cover up the water tank, so it wouldn’t look so much like an eyesore and the place has sort of been a landmark for the city ever since.” And as though the realization had only come now, J.D. added, “Welcome to Homer, the halibut fishing capitol of the world. The harbor’s this way, boys.”

“I thought Nightmute held that distinction,” Jared said.

“Don’t believe everything you see in the movies, kid,” J.D. replied good-naturedly to Jared’s obvious, cinematic test.

Tahmoh raised a curious eyebrow. “Nightmute?”

“From the movie _Insomnia_ with Al Pacino and the late Robin Williams,” Jared explained as he and Tahmoh followed dutifully behind J.D..

“Nolan’s remake wasn’t bad, even if most of it was filmed in B.C. and not here in Alaska,” J.D. added. “But he did get a few things right.”

“Like what?” Jared asked.

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, you will soon enough,” J.D. replied and that damned Cheshire Cat smile was back. Jared shook his head in defeat.

It was a fairly short distance to Homer Harbor. There were hundreds of boats lined up and down the docks – trawlers, skiffs, fishing boats, pleasure cruisers and more. But on such a narrow tongue of land, Jared realized that boats were probably the only practical means to get around.

J.D. waved to a man up ahead of them, who was hauling a kayak onto an odd looking boat. At first glance, Jared thought the craft might be a small, recreational trawler, but the bow dropped down into a ramp that reached the dock itself. It clearly made lugging supplies on and off the 30’ craft immensely easier. The guy secured the kayak and waved back. “Heard you were making a quick run over to Traci’s tonight and I finally got this thing repaired and figured you could bring it over with your passengers,” he told J.D. as they got close.

J.D. walked across the ramp and double checked the lines tying down the rig. “Sure thing. How about we crack a cold one at the Dawg when I get back?”

“Sounds good,” the man replied and, with a quick nod to Jared and Tahmoh, he hopped onto the dock and began untying the bow lines from the cleats.

“All right, boys. Feel free to stow your stuff in the cabin aft if you don’t want anything to get wet. Same goes for yourselves because it can get a little choppy on the bay,” he explained as Jared and Tomah climbed aboard. Without waiting for an answer, J.D. proceeded to make his final checks, raised the loading ramp and started up the craft. His friend tossed him the lines and waved them off.

“Give me your bags,” Tahmoh offered and took their belongings off to the single cabin while J.D. reeled in the boat fenders.

“Thanks,” Jared answered. He dragged his fingers along the railing of the aluminum boat, watching while Tahmoh and J.D. laughed about something. This trip was going to be good, he told himself. It was time to move forward.


	5. Kachemak Bay

**Kachemak Bay**

 

A quick thirty minutes later, J.D. showed Jared and Tahmoh exactly how useful his Bay Weld landing craft was when he bypassed the lodge’s small dock and simply ran his boat partially aground on the pebbled shore. The beach’s lone occupant shook her head in amusement as J.D. lowered the bow ramp.

“Showoff,” the woman shouted to J.D., hands on her jean clad hips, flannel shirt flapping in the slight breeze.

Tahmoh picked up their bags as Jared helped J.D. unfasten the repaired kayak. “You know me, Traci,” he winked as he lifted up the fiberglass hull. “So where do you want this?”

“Hey,” she chided and tried to take Jared’s place at the other end of the narrow boat. “J.D., you’re not supposed to make the guests work.”

“It’s not a problem, ma’am,” Jared replied as he gently rebuffed her efforts, getting a better grip on the kayak. At that, Traci turned on him, eyes flashing.

“Ma’am? Do I look like a ‘ma’am’ to you?” she demanded.

Jared blushed and stuttered and nearly tripped on the edge of the ramp. It was only because J.D. was holding the front end of the kayak solidly that Jared didn’t fall. “Well, I…” he muttered, but J.D. quickly put him out of his misery.

“Don’t tease, woman,” he scolded her, “and tell us where you want this thing.”

Traci smiled and pointed to a small outbuilding at the base of the hill. “Just hang it up on the racks outside of the boathouse and then leave these young men to my devices.”

As J.D. and Jared attached the kayak to the mounts along the boathouse wall, J.D. looked back at Traci curiously. “Am I going to have to defend their virtue, Traci?” She soundly slapped him upside his head.

“Shove off, old man,” she teased, “and keep your mind out of the gutter. You know you’re the only one for me.” And then she batted her eyes at him in a ridiculous fashion.

J.D. shook hands with Tahmoh and Jared, before giving Traci a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see in you in a few for their overnight excursion. You can tell Jenny I’ll have that case of Red Knot Scottish Ale with me by then, too.” As he walked away, he shouted over his shoulder, “And you better come up with a better theme this month for movie night although I do love the hair!”

Jared saw a warm flush appear on the woman’s cheeks and she dropped her eyes for a bit before shrugging back her shoulders and telling them, “Follow me, fellas. And forgive my manners. Please call me Traci.”

Jared took his bag from Tahmoh and after a quick introduction, the two followed single file up a winding path that cut around the hill and led to what Jared deduced must have been the lodge. Once again, he took some time to appreciate the design of the building and how it blended in fairly well with its surrounding environment, especially the A-frame front mimicking the shape of the surrounding pines. And the deck was amazing in how it utilized construction that copied organic root structure for its support system. To his overly critical eye, the only piece that didn’t quite match up was the dock they hadn’t used upon their arrival and he wondered if the owner had been hamstrung by regulations when it came to its plans since this was a U.S. hotel. Almost against his will, a small part of Jared’s brain began to tumble ideas around as to how it could be improved to incorporate the same themes as the main building, while meeting all the appropriate guidelines. Maybe something that resembled an ice float like they’d seen while crossing the bay, he entertained. So caught up in his thoughts, he stumbled on some roots at the trailhead, but Tahmoh shot out a hand to grab his bicep and steady him.

By the time they entered the lodge proper, Jared had to admit he was a little winded, although the walk had taken the chill out of his bones. But, as he snuck a glance at Tahmoh, he realized the man wasn’t even breathing hard. Maybe, he thought, after this trip was over, he should start taking Tahmoh up on those invites to his gym once in a while. His colleague was definitely in better shape and had quick reflexes, which Jared was grateful for. He added that to the new list he was creating in his head marked “things to do when I decide to get a life again”. He had a feeling it was going to be a long one if he was to fill up all the space Jensen had left behind.  But before his thoughts had a chance to grow darker, he felt a nudge on his arm.

“Look at the fireplace, Jared,” Tahmoh pointed out. “That’s just amazing.”

Jared moved over and gave it a closer inspection where it stood out against the age-worn log walls. The river rock construction was clearly eye-catching, spanning at least fourteen feet from floor to the cathedral ceiling but the hearth was even more impressive. Jared squatted down and ran his hands over the surface, feeling the solid mass beneath him. It appeared to be an actual boulder, or at least a good chunk of one. And that meant the fireplace and lodge had been built to include the hill, not simply perch on top of it.

“Is that part of –” he started to ask, turning to face Traci, but their host cut him off.

“Yup,” she confirmed. “That is part of the actual hill. It was the exact spot where my granddad liked to sit and sun himself while he watched the water and kept an eye on my grandma.” Her smile grew. “Not many people ever notice it; they just think it’s part of the fireplace. You’ve got a good eye.”

Tahmoh clapped Jared on the back. “That’s Jared,” he agreed. “He’s got an eye for detail but sometime misses the bigger picture.”

“Hey,” Jared disagreed, secretly a little hurt by Tahmoh’s teasing, “I see the big picture just fine.” Tahmoh had suddenly sounded a lot like Alex when she reminded him how he’d been fooled by Jensen; too caught up in the romance to see cracks that must have been in the foundation of their relationship for it to end the way it did. His hair fell across his eyes as he looked away.

Tahmoh slipped his arm up and grabbed Jared in a headlock. “Aw, sometimes you can’t even see the forest for the trees,” he carried on as they mock fought a little before a feminine cough caught their attention and they both paused mid-wrestle to face Traci.

“All right, children,” she scolded them, “save all that energy for tomorrow and get over here.” Suitably chagrined, Jared and Tahmoh straightened up and approached the counter.

“Better. Now, if you could both sign in please,” she continued and spun a guest book around so that it faced the men and handed over a pen. Tahmoh cocked an eyebrow at that and Jared suspected his techno-sensibilities were offended at such an archaic method of record keeping that the leather-bound ledger represented. Jared stifled a chuckle. Maybe he didn’t always see the bigger picture, but Tahmoh could have tunnel vision, too, about certain things. He eyed the early twentieth century National cash register at the far end of the counter, knowing its beauty would be lost on his friend right along with the array of antiques in the cabinets behind the desk. Jared made a note to check them out later, probably sans Tahmoh so he could take his time to value their historical significance.

After both men had checked in, Traci pulled open a drawer and extracted two folders, sliding one across to each of them. “Here’s a copy of your itinerary while you’re here. Your boss, Mr. Brown, asked me to pass these along since you were running late. I think he was a little cranky about that.” Jared shot Tahmoh a pointed glare when he heard that. “It lists your daily activities while you’re here and gives you an idea of what to expect in terms of the local flora and fauna.” She tapped her fingers over each packet decisively. “Read up about the critters and take it seriously, guys. There’s a lot of amazing things out here, but you always have to be careful, ok?” Both men nodded. “We’ll go over that in more detail tomorrow after breakfast.”

Stepping around the counter, Traci stood between the two men, her head barely reaching their shoulders. “Now that that’s over with, let me formally introduce you to my place. Welcome to Shayeq Lodge,” she said and wrapped an arm around each of their waists. “Before you butcher it,” she continued slowly, “it’s pronounced ‘shy-yech’. Give it a shot.”

After both were successful, Jared asked her something that had been niggling at him since they’d landed in Beluga Lake. “I noticed in Homer, a lot of the names for things were fairly…unimaginative.” He paused, letting his dimples peek out, hoping that was a politically correct way of describing how boring the names were. “Like the road along the spit was called –”

“’Homer Spit Road’,” she finished with a twinkle in her eye. “Well, to be honest, I’m not much more original, although Shayeq certainly sounds exotic to visitors from the lower forty-eight. The name means ‘halibut’ in the language of the Dena’ina, who are an Alaska Native Athabaskan people and the only Alaskan Athabaskan group to live on the coast. I guess,” Traci explained, “I wanted to try and do my part in keeping the language present and alive.”

“Doesn’t anyone speak it anymore?” Tahmoh asked. Traci shook her head sadly.

“There are less than one thousand Dena’ina left and of those, only about 75 speak the language fluently. It’s been classified as moribund.”

“Dying out because children aren’t taught the language in school?” Jared reasoned, cocking his head.

“Yup,” Traci agreed and moved to stand a little in front of the men. She adopted the air of lecturer to Jared. “The Commissioner of Education for the United States banned Native languages in Indian schools and declared an English-only policy in 1884. It didn’t get much better after that for a long time. The policy of the Alaska Territorial Schools to extinguish indigenous languages was one of the main reasons Dena'ina is no longer spoken and the damage runs deeper than that. As my great-grandmother explained it to me when I was little, ‘when they took away our language, they took away our ability to think in our own way’. This is my small effort at preserving the language as best I can. You’ll notice all the cabins here are named after an animal or plant in Dena’ina, as well as the nearby trails and outbuildings. And on that note, let me get off my soapbox and escort you to where you’ll be hanging your hat for the next week. And I hope you brought one. Just because it’s June doesn’t mean it gets real warm here,” she warned.

While they walked along the path beside the main lodge, almost completely ensconced in pines, Traci pointed out a few, visible features such as the gardens and hammocks as well as the location to the firewood fed sauna and where the hot tubs were tucked away. Jared and Tahmoh exchanged hopeful glances. “Your boss has left you guys some free time, so you’ll be able to enjoy them,” she assured them knowingly.

“And here we are,” she announced as they stopped at the last two cabins farthest from the lodge. “Jared, you’re in here,” she offered as she opened the door to his cabin, “and Tahmoh, you’re at the end. Inside, you’ll find dinner waiting for you. Since you came so late in the day, the main dining room had long since closed but we saved some for you. I suggest you eat up and call it a night, because you’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

Jared looked around, taking in the late afternoon light and was confused. “Why’d you close up so early?” Traci and Tahmoh traded glances before Tahmoh started to chuckle.

“It’s almost 10 o’clock, Jared,” he finally said, as though that explained everything.

“So?” Jared replied.

“At night,” Traci chimed in.

Jared stared at them before replying, “Oh.” Mentally, he began to tally the day’s events. There was the seven hour flight late this morning from Texas into Anchorage, the hour plus flight into Homer and then the thirty minute trip across the bay. All in the same day.

“Bigger picture, Jared,” Tahmoh laughed while shaking his head. “Bigger picture.”

Studiously ignoring his friend, Jared turned fully towards Traci and asked, “So when does it get dark around here?”

“Sunset is in about an hour and a half. This time of year,” she went on to explain, “we’ve got eighteen and a half hours of daylight. Enjoy!” And she left them standing there.

“Let’s get unpacked,” Tahmoh slapped him on the arm before opening up the door to his cabin. “Man, something smells delicious in here.” And then he disappeared inside.

Jared smiled and carried his luggage into the cabin, a buttery aroma heavy in the air. Although not as impressive as the main room of the lodge, the interior of his cabin was still a nice surprise. Knotty pine boards ran the length of the walls and made up the dropped ceiling. A small wood stove was nestled in one corner, near a large window, complete with a small, brick hearth for it. A pair of overstuffed chairs was next to it, along with a small table.

Dropping his bags at the foot of the large, quilt-covered bed – a bed that actually looked big enough so that Jared’s feet wouldn’t dangle over the edge – he poked his head hopefully into the small bathroom, separated from the main room by sliding French doors with frosted glass, and was pleasantly surprised. Sure enough, although the room was small, there was a shower/tub combination more than adequate to accommodate his 6’4” frame. That, to Jared, was true luxury.

Stomach grumbling now that he realized he hadn’t eaten since lunch on the plane hours ago, he walked over to the cozy seating area, where a sizeable linen covered basket was resting on the lone table. Propped against the woven basket was a neatly folder card. It read:

**_Enclosed you will find the fabulous meal I spent hours slaving over and you didn’t bother to show up to appreciate. You’re lucky I took pity on your sorry selves and saved you some._ **

**_It was better hot from the kitchen, but there’s fresh China Poot Bay silver salmon in a lemon beurre blanc sauce with shallots, steamed Alaskan King Crab legs and roasted mashed sweet potatoes. Spruce tip and lime sorbet is in the refrigerator. You better savor it, because the rest of your well-mannered group was clamoring for seconds and I had to risk life and limb to save you some._ **

**_Misha, the disrespected chef_ **

**_P.S. Yogi does not need another picnic basket. Keep all the dishes and leftovers in your room when you’re done and return them to the kitchen tomorrow morning. And there better not be any leftovers._ **

Chuckling, Jared pulled back the cloth and couldn’t help but moan appreciatively at what he smelled inside. Jared removed the various insulated containers with care and set them on the table, along with dishes and silverware. He was about to plate up some food when there was a knock on the door. Without hesitation, he called, “C’mon in.”

Tahmoh stuck his head through the doorway and caught sight of Jared. He moved into the room completely then, a matching food basket firmly in hand. “Care for a dinner companion?” he asked. “That is, if you aren’t sick of me yet?” Jared thought he looked a little uncertain, perhaps sorry for the excessive teasing earlier.

“Grab a seat, man,” he replied, willing to forgive and forget, and pushed his food to one side of the table to make room for Tahmoh’s meal. “I was just about to dig in,” he told his friend as he picked up a fork.

“Maybe this trip will be useful after all,” Tahmoh realized, “if it gets you to actually eat something for a change.” He fixed Jared with a hard look and Jared found himself squirming and trying to hide himself behind his bangs. He didn’t know what to do with the fact that even his colleague noticed he was a little underweight.

As though sensing Jared’s discomfort over the subject, Tahmoh instead asked, “Can I have something to drink?” Jared looked a little lost and Tahmoh explained, “If your fridge is like mine, there’s a pretty decent selection of beers in there.”

Jared ducked his head and headed over to the small fridge at the other end of the intimate seating niche. When he opened the door, he spotted what he suspected was a container of Misha’s prized sorbet in the freezer compartment as well as a rather impressive collection of craft micro-brews in the main portion of the refrigerator. There was also the ubiquitous smattering of bottled waters and sodas one expected to find at any hotel of worth.

“Do you want Old Inlet Pale Ale, Broken Birch Bitter, Red Knot Scottish Ale, China Poot Porter or Odyssey Oat Stout?” Jared offered, reading off the colorful labels. “All curtesy of the Homer Brewing Company, yet another original name for around here.”

“What does it say about the Broken Birch one?” Tahmoh shot back.

Jared rotated the bottle and read aloud, “‘A bitter with the bold, citrus-like flavors of Centennial and Cascade hops. Each keg is dry-hopped to give the additional nose to satisfy any hop-head’”. Jared chuckled. “So, are you a ‘hop-head’, Tahmoh?”

Tahmoh beamed at him. The expression made his eyes soften and seem greener than they actually were. “You should know the answer to that one, Jared, after the few drinks we’ve shared.”

If possible, Jared tried even harder to vanish behind his shaggy hair. He and Tahmoh had gone to more than a few bars since the man had joined the firm and it was established early on how much of a lightweight Jared was compared to him. On several occasions, it had been Tahmoh that had dragged Jared’s drunken ass home as all the while Jared loudly expounded on the virtues of the perfection that was Jensen Ackles. In retrospect, Jared was mildly surprised Tahmoh had put up with his sorry self for so long.

“I think citrus is a good way to go with Misha’s ‘underappreciated’ fish,” Jared decided, shaking off his self-deprecating thoughts.

“Did you get that same note, too?” Tahmoh leaned back in his seat and laughed as Jared nodded. “The guy sounds like a total character. But I guess you’d have to be to live up here.”

“What do you mean?” Jared wondered, two beers in hand.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tahmoh nodded as Jared handed him his bottle and they clinked a toast to each other. “It’s pretty sweet up here, but if you’re not into fishing or hunting, what else would you do to keep from climbing the walls?”

“Hunting?” Jared was surprised. “Really?”

“Around here, why wouldn’t you? Bears, orcas, bald eagles, wolves…the place is crawling with apex predators. The challenge is everywhere.”

Jared took a swig of his beer, pausing a moment to relish the bite of the hops, before admitting with a shrug, “I guess.”

“Soft-hearted Jared,” Tahmoh observed. “Bigger picture, kiddo. What else could you do here?”

Jared shrugged again as he replied, “Draw, relax, catch my breath, I guess.”

“All good ideas for a vacation, but for the rest of your life?” Tahmoh responded while taking a bite of his fish and motioning with his fork for Jared to do the same. “There’d have to be something that drove you to get up every day.”

“Good point,” Jared conceded and scooped up some mashed potatoes. “I wasn’t really thinking long term. The little we’ve seen here just seems so peaceful and beautiful really.”

“Sure,” Tahmoh agreed, “but that’s just on the surface. Look a little deeper, past the picturesque mountains and streams. Almost everything here is hunting something else. Orca pods working together to corral fish or knock seals off ice floats. Eagles, with their massive wing spans of seven to eight feet, riding the thermals to pick and choose what to kill with such amazing eyesight that they can spot a rabbit up to a mile away. The average sniper rifle is only effective at about half that range. And even the herbivores,” Tahmoh continued, clearly on a roll and pushing his nearly empty plate aside, “like the bull moose around here have antler spreads of about six feet and when two males go at it,” he paused to smash his hands together, “it’s like a car crash. Their fights would put Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao to shame.

“And wolves, who more often than not go after much larger prey than themselves, know their enemy, know that large targets can be dangerous if they fight back. So,” he stressed slowly, “they do everything they can to intimidate and get their prey on the run – threaten, snarl, snap, maybe draw a little blood.  And while they definitely work in packs, it’s the alpha male who leads the hunt. The alpha – a master tactician – who bides his time, maneuvers the chess pieces all the while waiting for his prey to make that fatal mistake, and completes his kill. They’re all here.”

Jared was a bit breathless listening to Tahmoh. “Wow,” he finally said, “you sure do know a lot about the wildlife. I can’t believe all of that was in Traci’s welcome packet.” And he _was_ impressed even as he was a little disturbed by the theme of his friend’s tangent.

Tahmoh seemed to sense Jared’s unease and reined himself back in. “I like to know as much as I can about where I am at any given time. I mainlined a bunch of NatGeo specials on Netflix before we left. Sorry to get so intense.” And he fiddled with his silverware after his confession, which, for some reason, Jared found very endearing.

“No wonder you’re going bonkers without Wi-Fi or some kinda cell reception,” Jared teased, leaning back in his chair and clapping his hands together. “Something might be going on somewhere right now and you don’t know about it. And you _need_ to know.”

“Shut up,” Tahmoh groused and threw his balled-up linen napkin at Jared. “I didn’t mean to put you off your feed.” He acknowledged Jared’s half-finished dinner plate with a jerk of his head.

“You didn’t. To be honest, I’m pretty full.” As if to prove his point, Jared patted his flat stomach. “That butter sauce was really rich, fresh from the kitchen or not.”

“Mmm hmm. Somehow I’m not quite convinced.” Glancing out the window, Tahmoh leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms, cracking his spine and loosening his muscles against the chair’s back. Jared found himself admiring the curve of Tahmoh’s torso in the fading evening light, the way his shirt stretched across his chest and then felt guilty for doing so. Glancing away so he wouldn’t get caught, Jared shifted his gaze out the window as well.

Like an incoming tide, clouds spread across the sky from the west, washing away the blue with a deep tangerine and amethyst. The distant mountain range was a sharp outline, whose color in the evening light bled from the soft, baby blue of the snow-covered caps to a rich sapphire at the base. And the tree line was a black silhouette that anchored it all. Suddenly, Jared needed to get closer to it.

“Why don’t we have our dessert outside and enjoy that sunset?” Tahmoh suggested.

“Are you a mind reader?” Jared joked.

Tahmoh gave him an appraising look as he stood and collected his dirty dishes to place back in his basket. “I think I know what makes you tick by now, Mr. Padelecki,” he winked. Before Jared could say anything to that, he continued, “Since the next round is on me, why don’t you grab your sorbet and get comfortable out there and I’ll be back in a minute to join you?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jared agreed as Tahmoh cleared out of the cabin. He placed his own unfinished food back in the basket with a sigh. He knew he wouldn’t make any points with the lodge’s chef by leaving so much uneaten, despite the written warning, but he just didn’t have much of an appetite. He hadn’t really enjoyed a meal since before Thanksgiving, before Jensen left. Jensen.

“God,” he muttered, exasperated with himself. “Enough with it already.” It was like Jensen was a ghost that he couldn’t exorcise, always flitting about in his peripheral vision. He practically stormed over to the fridge and yanked out the dish of sorbet with a vengeance. Jared vowed then and there to get over his lover one way or another. It was simply the lack of closure that haunted him now, he reasoned. He would close the book himself, since there was no other option. And he would close it tight.

As he stepped out onto the front porch, Jared just made out the bay from between the trees and smelled the hint of the sea, like ancient tears, hidden in the sharp bite of pine. The colors of the sky reflected so perfectly on the calm waves that it looked like a rosy fire boiling across the water and even after his inner pep talk, Jared still wished in that moment that Jensen was there to share this sight with him. Something pricked at the corners of his eyes and the salt he smelled this time didn’t come from the bay.

He scrubbed at his treacherous tears with the sleeve of his flannel shirt and sank into one of the two Adirondack chairs on the small deck, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Jared placed his frozen dessert down with a clink of silverware and watched the light from the sky burn itself out to indigo, lost in his memories. He never noticed when Tahmoh sat down next to him and placed their beers on the floorboards between the chairs. Neither man spoke for a long time.


	6. June 8th

**June 8th**

 

Jensen rolled over with a groan and moved his arm away from his face far enough to take a peek at the octagonal window on the other side of the loft. He didn’t need to check the wind-up clock on his nightstand to know it was coming up on 5 AM. The sun was just starting to show above the lower edge of the glass, heralding another clear morning. As he flopped back down onto his pillows, Jensen raked both hands through his hair and blinked his eyes hard several times, trying to wake up fully. Turning back towards his nightstand, he blindly groped for his well-worn copy of _The Fountainhead_. Part of his morning ritual, he couldn’t remember how many times he’d read the book. But each time he did, it made him feel closer to Jared.

It was easy for Jensen to see why the story appealed to Jared and why it might even have shaped his decision to pursue architecture. After all, Howard Roark was portrayed as an incredibly individualistic man, an independent, brilliant designer; one who was willing to sacrifice anything and anyone for his creative vision. And while he would definitely agree that there were more than a few similarities between Jared and Roark, Jensen could never picture Jared as someone who would choose his own goals and desires over a loved one. While Roark stood up for his beliefs, valuing his individuality over everything else, that driving force made him a solitary, unyielding figure. Inevitably, Roark stood alone. Jared was not someone built to be like that; he had too much to give, too much to share. After rereading the scene describing Roark and Dominique’s first sexual encounter again last night, Jensen was reminded just how gentle and kind Jared was. As if he even needed a reminder of that at all.

Placing the book back down, his eye was drawn to the framed photograph beside his clock instead. Jensen brushed his fingers over the face of the man behind the glass. They were so happy in that moment, grappling over a toy, with eyes only for each other. He didn’t even mind the annoying inscription on the frame that Jared had chosen. Simply because Jared was a few inches taller – Jared was always a few inches taller than everyone else – he loved to tease Jensen and call him a midget to rile him up. And Jensen would give anything to go back in time and relive that moment, hear that stupid name again spoken from those lips. If only he hadn’t gotten mixed up in what he did all those months ago, he could be there right now, waking up next to a sleep-warmed Jared – his own person furnace. But there was no changing what Jensen had become a part of and leaving Jared the way he had had been his only choice in the end. It was better for Jared that way. And Jensen hoped that he was happy again and moving on with his life by now.

With a shake of his head, Jensen flipped back the blankets on his bed and sat up, flexing his bare toes in the soft carpet. There were still enough coals burning in the wood stove so that there was only the slightest chill in the room. It might be the beginning of summer, but nights still dropped down to the lower 40’s, especially when there was no cloud cover. Clad only in boxers – the one and only time Misha had barged into his cabin unannounced and seen him naked had scarred them both and he no longer risked sleeping in the nude – he stretched his arms and lower back slowly, rolling out all the kinks. Months of taking out his frustrations on hapless piles of wood had given him more muscles in his arms, shoulders and chest than he had ever had, even back in college where he played a variety of team sports.

Jensen got up and grabbed his clothes from the built-in shelves near the bed before heading downstairs to wash up. Unlike the single-level guest cabins that ran more or less in a straight line south of the main house, there were a handful of two-story cottages almost directly behind the lodge. Traci reserved these self-contained units, complete with full kitchens and real wood burning stoves – not the propane models in the tourists’ rooms – for herself and her year-round staff that included Misha and now Jensen. They were simply furnished, only the barest of necessities, but Jensen didn’t need much. He turned on the coffee maker and hopped into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Ten minutes later, coffee cup in hand, he padded over to the stove and flipped open the heavy metal door. Jensen checked every morning to make sure that most of the coals had burned down before he started his day. Traci thought he was funny about that, saying if he trusted the stove to burn when he was asleep, why not let it go throughout the day and save him the hassle of building a new one each night? Not to mention it was far more enjoyable to come back to a warm home every night than an icebox, she had emphasized. But Jensen had told her he liked starting fires; there was something soothing in the primal act and she had shrugged her shoulders and muttered something about cavemen before letting the subject drop. What he didn’t admit to her was he couldn’t bring himself to do anything to make the place more comfortable than necessary. This wasn’t home. He stepped out onto the deck, sipping his coffee, and watched the sunrise.

After a Spartan breakfast, Jensen slipped on his jacket and walked the short distance to the lodge. Today was the “official” start for the group that had booked the entire resort for the week. Jensen had met most of them in passing the previous day, save for a pair of stragglers who were expected to arrive later on in the evening. He knew Traci would be setting up the dining room for the breakfast rush and figured she could use a hand, so he headed there first.

Tossing a few logs onto the fire in the main room as he passed by, he moved into the dining area, off to the left when facing the fireplace. Larger than the main entrance, the walls were still bare down to the aged logs of the lodge. The floor, however, was a natural stone one. Traci, when she had remodeled the place with an eye for the tourist trade, covered over the wood floor, thinking that stone would be easier to keep up with the inevitable food spills that were sure to occur. Even small throw rugs were relegated to near the large windows in the far corner of the room, where a couch and pair of bookcases were situated. Like the main room, the decorations were local, handmade items, such as the pair of antique snowshoes that crisscrossed one of the low-hanging roof rafters.

Running the length of the room were two banquet size tables. The slightly smaller of the two was already laden with two thermos pump pot carafes, filled with coffee and hot water respectively, with a basket filled with an assortment of teas and hot chocolate nearby. Farther down, several larger baskets contained linen-wrapped bundles. A quick sniff of the air and Jensen knew one was definitely blueberry muffins and the other was probably maple twists. Misha might have no boundaries or sense of personal space, but Jensen would never deny that he was an amazing chef except, maybe, to his face. And standing at the end, as though an afterthought, was a small selection of cereal boxes. Jensen knew Misha only added those grudgingly to the breakfast lineup, viewing them as an affront to his cooking abilities.

“Hey, handsome, how are you this sunny morning?” Jensen turned around and saw Traci enter the room carrying a stack of dishes. Her ever-present shadow, Crash, trotting along beside her.

“Just peachy,” he replied, voice always more gravelly first thing in the morning. “Need a hand?”

Traci didn’t say a word, simply handed over the plates and went back into the kitchen. Jensen moved over to the empty table and starting laying them down. He was half-finished by the time Traci returned with a bundle of silverware and napkins. Working alongside him, Traci confirmed, “We’ve got a full house this morning.”

“I take it the two MIAs made it in last night?” he asked.

Slapping silverware down like a Vegas dealer did cards, she replied, “J.D. brought ‘em over without a hitch late yesterday. Oh,” she added after a pause, “he told me to tell you he’d have that case of Red Knot for you when he comes back tomorrow. You never did tell me what the bet was that he lost so spectacularly to.”

“Nice try, but you know I never kiss and tell,” Jensen quipped. When he saw her barely disguised look of surprise, he hastily added, “Nothing like that, stupid. You know he doesn’t play for my team. Of course, if you don’t make a move on him one of these days-” She smacked his arm playfully before he could finish that threat. “Why’s he coming back so soon?”

“Tomorrow, the group gets a sort of day off. Their boss is trying to balance a little bit of sight-seeing between their ‘team building exercises’,” she explained, making air quotes at the last part. “J.D.’s going to ferry them over to Gull Island and Halibut Cove, probably for the night.”

“Seriously? Team building exercises?” Jensen grimaced.

“If you’d bothered to read the schedule I gave you a copy of, you’d have known that already.” She glared at him sternly and then started to smile. “He’s got some real doozies cooked up for them this week.”

“Oh, man, now I’m going to have to go and take a look at that thing,” Jensen admitted. “I wonder if it’ll be like that episode of _The X-Files_ where Scully and Mulder were supposed to go to some team building thing and instead ended up stacking dead bodies to climb out of a pit.” Traci started to laugh along with him.

“They’re weird exercises, but I don’t think this crowd would be up to that. They’re more likely to push pencils than corpses.”

“You know,” Jensen admitted, suddenly a little subdued, “I knew someone who disrupted one of these things once.” Traci handed him a tray of drinking glasses and nodded to keep working while he talked as she fashioned flowers out of the napkins for each place settings. “His group was supposed to have some essay writing exercise, which he decided was lame, so he stole every pen and pencil he could get his hands on at the hotel they were staying at. By the time the moderators showed up, he’d built this crazy fort using all of them right in the corner of the room.” Traci looked up from her linen origami and gave him a crooked grin.

“That’s one way to sabotage ‘em,” she agreed.

“It gets even better,” Jensen explained. “Since these guys were all architects, the trouble-maker convinced the mods it was a collective effort to exemplify their ‘team spirit’ and ‘insatiable creativity’, so they gave ‘em a pass on the essays and left his tower standing for the duration.” Shaking his head, he continued, “I think they really let him off the hook because they couldn’t figure out how to take the friggin’ thing apart.”

Caught up in the memory, Jensen didn’t notice when Traci’s look became thoughtful. “Designers? That’s weird. This group is a bunch of ar-“

“Traci, please keep Crash out of my kitchen!” Misha shouted, interrupting Traci mid-sentence. “I nearly tripped over him and could have dropped the latest batch of goat cheese and sundried tomato scones all over the floor! And I do not subscribe to the five second rule.”

Eyeing him over her shoulder, Traci yelled back, “He wouldn’t be in there if you didn’t sneak him snacks all the time.”

“That’s beside the point. He should know better,” the chef rationalized as he carefully carried in a tray of the aforementioned, savory-smelling biscuits. Perched at a jaunty angle on his head was his ridiculously tall toque and he completed the look with a red kerchief tied at the base of his throat.

Jensen was oblivious to their exchange. This had been the first time since arriving in Alaska that he had ever mentioned Jared out loud, even though not by name, and he was rattled. As though the mere mention of him might conjure up Jared’s presence, Jensen practically slammed the last glass in place. When he glanced up, he saw that both Traci and Misha were looking at him oddly.

Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, Jensen announced, “Trace, there’s a deadfall near the trailhead for Chinshla Road that I wanted to clear out before your guests get too adventurous with their exploring.” He barely remembered to use the Dena’ina word for crow when he mentioned the trail.

“Don’t forget about the nature walk you’re leading after they eat lunch,” she reminded him as Jensen slipped past her. He nodded but stopped to stand next to Misha. He couldn’t pass up the hat.

“That thing makes you look like Chef Boyardee,” he informed the cook with a roll of his eyes and snatched a scone off the tray. As Jensen exited the dining room, he could hear Misha expound on the virtues of the Italian chef selling his company to a conglomerate so that his workers could keep their jobs after WW2 to a bemused Traci, while he slipped Crash a snack. Misha, it seemed, knew a little bit about absolutely everything.

                                                                                                *****

Clearing out the brush and the one fallen tree took longer than Jensen anticipated. Thankfully, the pocket chainsaw he always kept on his belt, not much bigger than a tape measure, handled the tree without too much trouble. He was able to slice the pine, slightly thicker than his thigh, with the sharp length of chain into manageable sections. Progress was slow since he hadn’t felt like going back to the lodge to get an ax or the larger bow saw Traci had.  But the task had accomplished what he’d wanted and pushed thoughts of Jared to the far reaches of his mind. And Jensen had definitely worked up a sweat, so he hurried back to his cabin to take a second shower and change. He didn’t think the guests would appreciate his “mountain man scent”, as Traci liked to call it, even if he made sure to stand downwind of them.

Clad in fresh jeans and a flannel shirt, he’d forgone his jacket for a fleece vest. That way, he could roll up his sleeves easier for what he planned to handle in the afternoon with the tourists. His lips quirked into a half-smile as he contemplated what he’d be showing them today, already anticipating their reactions. He had to admit that doing the walks for visitors was becoming a highlight of his time here and he reminded himself he needed to thank Traci for the job.

He ducked into the main lodge, catching bits of chatter that drifted out of the dining room over the clatter of silverware, as he swapped his hiking boots out for gumboots. The crowd sounded lively and he caught a few cracks about their morning exercises that made him chuckle. How catching a person that everyone knew was going to fall was supposed to build trust had always been a puzzle to Jensen and seemed to be a staple for these kinds of boring exercises.

Traci’s voice clearly cut through the various conversations in progress. “If you’re all about finished and can tear yourselves away from Misha’s scrumptious Baked Alaska-” she was interrupted by a sudden burst of cheers and claps – Misha must have been in heaven over the accolades – “then I would suggest you head over to the mudroom just to the left of the front desk and trade your shoes in for a pair of Alaskan sneakers.” Jensen found himself shaking his head at the local nickname. “That’s gumboots for those of you from the lower forty-eight. Now go forth and learn something. Shoo,” she finished, dismissing them. Jensen took that as his cue to deposit his own boots by the hearth to keep them warm and went outside to wait for the group to gather once they’d sorted out their footwear.

He didn’t have to wait long as people slowly trickled outside. He smiled and nodded at a few of the faces that he remembered from the introductions yesterday afternoon. Judging by the way they had hurried, he guessed they were eager to get out and see something after having been cooped up most of the morning. He couldn’t blame them one bit as the day was turning out to be a near perfect one weather-wise. A quick headcount revealed he was two short, but since he still hadn’t really looked closely at the list Traci had provided him, he couldn’t name who was missing even though he knew for certain it was the MIA pair. He’d have to count on someone to tattle for him to cover his unfamiliarity with the roster.

“Is this everyone?’ Jensen asked, knowing that wasn’t the case.

“No,” a young blonde woman piped up. “We’re still missing-” But before she could finish her sentence, decidedly male laughter from the doorway drowned her out.

“I told you you’d left that beanie in my room,” a soft-spoken man said as he opened the lodge door for his companion. “You’d crash and burn without me. Admit it!”

Jensen turned away from the group to take a breath and get a handle on his aggravation, missing out on the other man’s response. He hated when people were late, feeling it was a little disrespectful to keep others waiting when there was no reason to. It’s not like the guys got caught up in unexpected traffic around here, for Pete’s sake, they just had to get from the dining room to the front door. He scrubbed at the back of his neck in irritation and when he was certain he heard the two join the rest of the group, he snarked in a rough voice, “Better late than never, I guess.” There were a few titters in obvious agreement with the sentiment.

“’It is better to learn late than never’. Ancient Latin proverb by Publilius Syrus, the same dude who said 'a rolling stone gathers no moss' for you unwashed masses,” the other man explained in a voice oh-so-achingly familiar. Jensen felt his heart thud so fiercely at the sound that he swore it bruised a rib. He found himself pivoting around almost against his volition.

“Jared,” he whispered in a voice gone desert dry.


	7. The Tide Pool

**The Tide Pool**

 

“Geez, Jared, now we’re going to be late,” Tahmoh nearly whined as they trotted along the path from the cabins back to the lodge.

“Like that would be a first for you, dude,” Jared joked back as he opened the side door to the dining room, the smell of fresh baked sourdough bread still lingering in the air. “It’s just a little beachcombing walk. What’s a few minutes, give or take? And I don’t want my ears to get cold.” He pulled his knit cap firmly in place, the tip of his candy-pink tongue peeking out from between his teeth as he smiled.

Tahmoh whapped him on the back of his head. “You and your delicate sensibilities. And we could have been on time if you’d just listened to me in the first place. I told you you’d left that beanie in my room,” he reminded Jared as he opened the lodge’s main entrance for him. “You’d crash and burn without me. Admit it!”

Jared clutched his hands to his heart and batted his eyes. “Ferris Bueller, you’re my hero,” he mocked in a nasally voice as they joined the rest of their team. He sucked in a deep breath, ready to carry on with his terrible impression, but a gravelly voice cut him short.

“Better late than never, I guess.”

Jared sighed. And, naturally, his turncoat coworkers had to giggle in agreement with Mr. Cranky Pants. Like Jared hadn’t heard that one before. But, having stood up for Tahmoh more than once for his tardiness, he had a slew of comebacks at his fingertips.

“’It is better to learn late than never’. Ancient Latin proverb by Publilius Syrus, the same dude who said 'a rolling stone gathers no moss' for you unwashed masses,” he finished triumphantly, giving Tahmoh another grin. But when he heard his name whispered in quiet response, his smile disappeared and he shivered like someone had stepped over his grave. As though he was moving through a dream, Jared searched for the source of that voice. What he found stole his breath away. Standing not ten feet distant at the front of his huddled associates was Jensen.

Jared found his vision abruptly tunneling down to Jensen and only Jensen; the chatter and laughter of the others dwindling to nothing more than a dull murmur in the background. After eight months of nothing, Jensen was suddenly there and he looked…good. Maybe, Jared noticed, even better than he had before he’d disappeared ( _Left you_ , his brain corrected insistently, _because he’s obviously done just fine without you_ ).

His sandy brown hair was still as short as ever and, from where Jared was standing, he could see Jensen even had a bit of a tan. His forearms, where the plaid shirt – plaid? – was rolled up, were a touch more golden and healthy under the Alaskan sun than he remembered. And although his loose shirt and fleece vest disguised it somewhat, Jensen was obviously bigger in his arms and chest than Jared had ever seen him before. Faded jeans hugged his powerful thighs like a second skin. He looked like he belonged here, right down to his stupid “Alaskan sneakers”. But even as he took it all in, Jared couldn’t read Jensen’s expression. Those bottle-green eyes were a mystery to him. He couldn’t fathom what Jensen was thinking and he wanted to run over and hug him…or hit him…or both. But his feet had taken root where he stood. And there was an odd thrumming noise, growing louder, an insistent beat that had started to drown out everything including the muffled sounds around him. Jared swayed, realizing the sound was his blood pounding in his ears, and caught a flash of concern crossing Jensen’s face, even though the other man seemed as frozen in place as Jared. However, before Jared could do or say anything about it, Tahmoh slipped a comforting hand up on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? Not still hung over from last night, are you?” he asked, worry evident in his tone, his touch gentle. Jared slowly swiveled to peer down at him, but not before he caught that look of concern on Jensen’s face morphed into something sour. It was gone in an instant and Jared wasn’t even sure he hadn’t imagined any of it to begin with anyway. “Yeah,” he croaked out.

“Shall we get started? Now that we’re all present and accounted for, that is,” Sterling announced like a dash of cold water, breaking the strange spell. “I, for one, am eager to stretch my legs.” Several others chorused their agreement.

“Of course,” Jensen answered after a pause, “we should get moving.” And that was it. No heartfelt reunions, declarations of love or pleas for forgiveness. Nothing.

Jared continued to stand rooted to the spot until he felt Tahmoh give him a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Let’s get going, buddy,” he told Jared. “I thought we’d decided that you were going to ‘seize new challenges with both hands’. At least, that’s what you were proclaiming last night after your fourth China Poot Porter.” Jared wasn’t sure, but from the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw Jensen’s body grow rigid at Tahmoh’s words. He blinked and Jensen’s walk loosened back into the bow-legged gait Jared remembered so well. At least some things hadn’t changed.

“Yeah…yeah,” Jared agreed and began a careful decent down the path that only yesterday had left him winded but excited about the week to come. It had all seemed like a grand adventure and a chance to get his head straightened out once and for all. Now he didn’t know where the trail was leading him – to answers or simply more questions?

For the next twenty minutes, Jared was only vaguely aware of his surroundings as the group plodded north along the increasingly rocky shoreline. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of Jensen and the easy way the man fielded questions from his coworkers while never once glancing back towards him. Part of him was waiting for someone to jump out and yell “Surprise!” and for this to all have been some elaborate prank. Tahmoh had given up his attempts at coaxing him into small talk and only once in a while shot worried glances his way. But Jared didn’t know how to begin to tell his friend anything. In fact, he was starting to think if he opened his mouth at all, he might start screaming and never stop.

Jensen eventually herded the group away from the shore and had them scrambling over rocky outcroppings all the while warning them to watch their footing and to be aware of how slick the algae-covered stones could be. The tide was far enough out that shallow “pools” had been created and it was one of the larger ones that Jensen led them to.

About fifteen feet in diameter, the tide pool held roughly a foot or so of water in it. Jared’s nose twitched at the briny smell, a mix of sulfur and salt and a pinch of green, stronger now that they were practically knee deep in it. The sharp smell helped to ground him back in the present and, despite the slight shock he was in over the day’s surreal turn of events, he couldn’t help but be amazed at all the color now in front of him. It gave him something to wrap his brain around that wasn’t Jensen.

Clinging vertically along the exposed, natural walls normally submerged at high tide was some type of oyster or mussel. And Jared was fairly certain the slimy, tentacled creatures that sagged down like deflated party balloons were anemones. But what really caught his eye were the starfish that littered the sides and bottom of the pool. They were an explosion of jeweled colors ranging from topaz to deep amethyst. As he leaned closer, he saw what looked like sausage size fuzzy worms flitting about and something else that was blood red, about as big as a cucumber, and had what looked like thorns scattered all over its body. And he wasn’t the only one amazed at what was inside the pool as he noticed most everyone had crowded around it and a few, like Katie, were even kneeling alongside the pool.

Jensen stepped carefully inside it and maneuvered himself to the center. There, a large rock stuck out of the water and a starfish the size of a dinner plate rested comfortably on it. Jensen squatted down and began to run his finger gently along the creature’s arms. Jared counted at least sixteen of them in total. The slow, coaxing movement caused the appendage to give way and Jared could see the tiny suckers on the underside actually release and contract under Jensen’s touch. Watching the almost hypnotic motion of the other man’s fingers, Jared was hit by a sense memory so strong it almost stole his breath away. He could recall with infinite clarity the feel of those callused, strong fingers against his skin running the length of his body, teasing, caressing, probing…his eyes slipped closed and he shuddered at the memory.

“Here,” Jensen’s voice roused him, “go ahead and touch.” When Jared opened his eyes it was to see that Jensen had apparently detached the starfish completely from its rock and was holding it out to Katie, who was standing the closest to him. She chewed on her lower lip and then shook her head in the negative, blonde hair swinging back and forth.

“Aw, go on,” he cajoled her. All the while he supported the animal with one hand under its body and stroked the top with the other. He leaned closer, but not in a threatening, little-boy-tormenting-a-girl-on-the-playground kind of way, nodding his head in encouragement. Jared didn’t know of a single person who could deny Jensen a thing when he turned on the charm and Katie was no different. She relented and tentatively reached out with her fingers to touch the sea creature. Jared watched as her eyes widened at the first contact and she beamed at Jensen.

“Oh, it’s so soft,” she cooed in a gentle voice, as though a loud sound might startle the animal.

And, like magic, as soon as Katie gave in, the rest of Jared’s coworkers moved closer, each one now eager to touch the creature. Only Jared hung back and would have skipped the encounter entirely but Tahmoh gave him a not-so-subtle shove and whispered, “Chicken,” in his ear. So he caved and hesitantly patted the animal, keeping his eyes lowered and all but refusing to acknowledge Jensen’s presence. But as soon as he stroked the surface, he was as surprised as everyone else by the animal’s velvety texture. He opened his mouth in a smile and glanced up at Jensen, wonder clearly written all over his face. And for one unguarded moment, Jensen mirrored that joy and gave him a smile in return. So caught up in everything, Jared wasn’t watching what he was doing and accidently brushed his fingers alongside Jensen’s. Jared immediately jerked his hand away as though the touch had scalded him and he stepped back, appearing to the others as though he was merely letting someone else get a turn in. He didn’t catch the way Jensen’s face shuttered closed after that.

“I’ve never seen a starfish that big before,” Stephen admitted as he moved to stand beside Katie, barely brushing their shoulders together. Jared was more certain than ever that they were a couple.

“Well, I hate to be _that_ guy, but these critters aren’t called ‘starfish’ anymore,” Jensen corrected the man.

“Not politically correct?” Sterling quipped, sharp and dry as always.

“Nah,” Jensen drawled and Jared’s heart stuttered when he heard that bit of Texas in his voice, “just not correct.”

“How so?” Sterling prodded him, clearly interested in the answer.

“The name ‘starfish’ would imply the animal is a fish and a fish is a vertebrate.” Jensen noticed Gabe cocking his head at that. “Vertebrates are things with bones. These guys,” he paused to gently rotate one of the legs back and forth until it was almost bent backwards on itself, “are invertebrates – no bones. So now public aquariums and naturalists are slowly trying to introduce the term of ‘sea star’ to the general public because it’s more biologically accurate. It’s slow going, but people are starting to use it.”

Jared couldn’t stop staring at him throughout the exchange. He’d tried so hard to superimpose the memory of Jensen with his clipboard, blue button-down and khakis over the man standing in front of him, but he couldn’t get them to mesh; the pieces wouldn’t fit. Square peg, round hole. The pounding was back in his ears the more he attempted to make sense of things and the handle he had on his nerves was fraying thin. He didn’t have any more answers now than when Jensen had left. And, studying the man today, Jared finally came to the conclusion that when Jensen left, he _had_ left everything behind without looking back, including him. Alex and everyone else had been right all along and it was Jared who had been the fool.

“I get that,” he eventually said, surprising himself with the coldness of his tone. “It’s hard when you were absolutely certain something was one thing for so long, so certain you knew it inside and out only to then discover you were completely and utterly wrong about it. But eventually, you let it go. No other choice, right?” And when he smiled at Jensen this time, there was no joy in it.

No one else seemed to pick up on the odd exchange, but Jensen dropped his gaze and looked away. Jared nodded to himself, pleased he’d apparently struck a chord with their “guide”. But he was surprised when Jensen turned back around, a small stick grasped tightly in his hand. He used the wood as a makeshift pointer as he gestured to something else within the pool.

“What do you all see here?” he asked in a firm voice. Jared’s colleagues shifted around and some craned their necks to see what new wonder Jensen was revealing to them like he was some kind of magician. But all Jared could see was a discarded, amber bottle. Not a magician, then, but a snake oil salesman.

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Mindy, from human resources, proclaimed. She pushed her red hair out of her eyes to get a better look at the beer bottle. “How can people be so thoughtless?” Jared bit his tongue to keep from reminding her that she never recycled her soda cans at the office even though the bins were right there.

“What else?” Jensen prodded, obviously wanting another answer.

“Well,” Tahmoh spoke up and Jared once again saw Jensen grow stiff at the sound of the man’s voice, “it’s partially covered in barnacles and other growth, so it’s been in the water for some time. This isn’t new trash.”

Jensen nodded in grudging approval of his observations before asking, “Anything else anybody see?” The others shook their heads collectively. Jared remained silent.

“Watch closely.” And with that, Jensen took the stick and started to prod a tiny crab, no bigger than a quarter, which was holed up in a cache of small rocks, towards the opening of the beer bottle and then pulled the stick out of the way. At first, nothing occurred other than the disgruntled crab skittered back and forth, clearly mad. Then, from the mouth of the bottle, Jared saw something sickly white start to push and expand its way out. Like an amorphous finger, the thing pulsed and swirled around and when about three inches was visible, the thing literally popped another inch out. As soon as that happened, its body exploded in mottled color, weird swirls of deep red appearing everywhere like strange tattoos on its skin. And trailing behind, below a now visible pair of eyes, was a collection of tentacles that whipped lightning fast around the crab and pulled the crustacean under its body. The rest of the tentacles spread around its mantle and curled round like miniature coils of rope. After a minute or two, the little octopus slithered back into its amber den, leaving only an empty crab shell in its wake.

“Wow! That was fast!” Stephen exclaimed as Katie nodded enthusiastically.

“The octopus has an incredibly strong beak that can tear into shells with ridiculous ease. And they can compress their body to fit through any type of hole that is wide enough to accommodate the beak. Discarded bottles end up making great dens for the smaller species.” Jensen stood up and tossed his stick away, sweeping his gaze across the group before finally settling on Jared. “Not everything is what it seems around here,” he explained seriously. “You assumed you knew something, but didn’t look closer.”

“I know what I saw,” Jared murmured. “You can’t deny that’s garbage.”

“That may be true, but even something that looks terrible on the surface can be salvaged. This should be proof of that,” Jensen finished with an earnest look on his face. Directly overhead, the afternoon sun – and Jared still hadn’t reconciled with the weird light cycle this far north – made the ends of Jensen’s hair glow gold. He couldn’t take it any longer and twisted his head to the side. Jared wrapped his arms around himself and shivered in the cool breeze. He felt like he was coming unglued.

“What’s that?” Gabe asked as he pointed out towards the water. Clearly, no one else had caught on to the hidden conversation existing between Jared and Jensen. “It looks like the water’s split into two colors. That can’t be because of clouds or the sky reflecting on it, can it?”

Tracking Gabe’s arm, Jensen climbed out of the pool to squint at the waters of the bay. Sure enough, there was a distinct change in the color of the water and a clear demarcation where it occurred, like someone had drawn an exact line separating blue from jade green. “Good eye. What you’re seeing there is a tideline. Some refer to it as a current line, because it can appear where two currents converge in the ocean. In this case, that line is caused by the fresh water reaching the salt water of the bay.” More of the company took an interest in Gabe’s discovery.

“Why’s there so much fresh water there?” another person asked.

“This time of year, you’ve got the summer runoff occurring. That’s when there’s a transfer of landwater to the ocean. Our snow pack is melting, filling lakes and streams to capacity, where they eventually empty into the bay. It’s all a constant cycle, folks,” Jensen added, “rain or snow to rivers to oceans and back to rain again.” He smiled and continued on, “And that’s always something to remember around here: follow a stream or river down if you want to find the ocean. Good thing to keep in mind if you ever get yourselves turned around out here. Better yet, if you get lost on one of the trails, just park yourself down and one of us will find you.”

Jared closed his eyes, listening to Jensen talk, and he remembered late night conversations in their apartment about decreasing runoff levels, acid rain and a myriad of other issues Jensen dealt with as an environmental engineer on a daily basis. Hearing the familiar words wash over him again brought tears to his eyes and it was all suddenly too much. He felt a steel band tighten around his chest and he couldn’t take a decent breath. Barely aware of Katie’s squeal of delight over some “tiny pink fairy dancing in the water”, Jared started to move hesitantly at first over the uneven shore, but slowly gained speed the farther and farther he pulled away. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard his name being called. He didn’t stop, though, only finding his breath once he had left Jensen far behind.

 

 


	8. Jared's Cabin

**Jared’s Cabin**

 

Jared flung the door to his cabin open and stormed inside. Somewhere along the blur that was his scramble back from the tide pool, he had discovered the act of breathing again and was making up for lost time. He stumbled over to the freshly-made bed and clawed at his gumboots, desperate to be rid of anything having to do with this place. Once he managed to pry the heavy, rubber things off, he practically flung them across the room, ignoring the dull thud they made as they hit the wall. He was beyond caring about anything at that moment other than obeying the overwhelming urge to flee.

He opened up the cedar closet and yanked his duffle out, almost tearing the zipper in his haste to open the bag. Jared dropped it onto the bed and began snagging armfuls of his clothes out of the bureau and shoving them haphazardly inside without rhyme or reason. He ran into the bathroom and scooped up his toiletries, banging his elbow against a wooden towel rack in his haste; he didn’t feel a thing. So engrossed in his escape attempt, Jared missed the knock at his open doorway. His hands were practically shaking as he dumped shampoo and toothpaste into a Ziploc bag.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Tahmoh wondered, walking in uninvited when Jared hadn’t acknowledged him. Depositing Jared’s forgotten hiking boots by the door, he moved over to the bed where the other man was hastily packing. Jared was still oblivious to his presence and didn’t respond to his question. Realizing that, Tahmoh grabbed his shoulders and shook the younger man slightly. Dipping and jerking his head to mimic Jared’s movements, he tried to catch Jared’s frantic eyes with his own. “What the hell is going on, Jared?” he tried again.

His touch seemed to penetrate the haze Jared was trapped in, because he actually started to focus on Tahmoh and his breathing grew a little less ragged. And when had it gotten so out of control? “There you go, buddy,” Tahmoh encouraged him. “Nice, deep breaths. In and out. In and out.” With one hand, Tahmoh swept the open bag off to the side to make room and encouraged Jared to sit down. He sat next to him and slid his other hand from Jared’s shoulder down to his arm. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” he smiled hopefully.

“I –” Jared started, his voice clicking in his throat, but stalled out almost immediately.

“Take your time,” Tahmoh reassured him, still keeping a calming hand cupped on his elbow.

Jared closed his eyes and swallowed audibly. He took a few, steadying breaths and opened them to stare into eyes just the wrong shade of green. When he spoke, he was noticeably calmer. “Jensen is what happened.”

Tahmoh tilted his head curiously. “Do you mean you had some kind of flashback or something or…”

“No,” Jared replied, his speech growing stronger, “I mean Jensen happened.”

Tahmoh still appeared confused for a second and then Jared watched as a variety of emotions flickered across his face, too quick for Jared to catalogue them all. But he was certain Tahmoh had definitely caught on at the end.

“ _That_ was Jensen?” Tahmoh seemed as surprised as Jared, glancing back in the direction of the beach as though he could still see their guide through the trees and distance now between them.

“In the flesh,” Jared agreed, nodding. He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

“That’s –” he stopped much the same way Jared had before. What did someone say to that?

“Exactly,” Jared replied after a minute of silence. He started to rise as he remembered what he had been doing before Tahmoh had showed up and was so anxious to get back to it he was practically vibrating out of his skin. “That’s why I’ve got to get the hell out of here,” he explained. Before he could make a move to reach his bag, however, Tahmoh tugged him back down with surprising strength. Jared gave in after a token resistance, sinking into the mattress, shoulders hunched.

“Sit down and take a breath. You’re not being logical,” Tahmoh scolded him. “Stay,” he added sternly with one finger raised in warning as he rose and walked over to the small desk set against the far wall. Jared watched half-heartedly as Tahmoh fiddled with the small coffee maker resting on the left corner. He let out a breath of air and yanked his beanie off his head, his long hair fanning out briefly from the action.  Staring unseeingly at the print of a kingfisher hanging on the far wall, somewhat askew since he’d tossed his boots that way, he twirled the knit cap in his hands nervously and tried hard not to think about how Jensen had looked standing in the sun, teasing Katie, teaching Gabe about tidelines, touching Jared’s hand…

“Here,” came the gruff command and a mug of something hot was placed unceremoniously under Jared’s nose. He let his cap fall to the ground and accepted the steaming cup. The aroma of coffee wafted up and Jared took a tentative sip. He nearly choked on it, however, his eyes growing wide at the taste.

“Man, did you Irish this up?” he sputtered, dabbing at his mouth.

“I might have just a touch. You looked like you needed something to settle your nerves,” the older man admitted as he returned to his place next to Jared. “Now please explain to me why in the world you’d want to leave?”

Jared cradled the ceramic mug between his hands and let the warmth seep in while he gathered his thoughts. The heat from it helped to soothe the fine tremors in his fingers. Finding himself no longer in a blind panic, he had a chance to reflect and put into words what he dreaded the most. “I don’t think I can face him again.” And he took a hefty swallow of the whiskey-laced beverage after confessing that. “I mean, he’s obviously moved on and that’s that.” He turned his eyes to the floor.

“What do you mean ‘that’s that’?” Tahmoh demanded and chucked Jared under the chin to get his attention back. “You’ve been torn up about this for as long as I’ve known you and from what you’ve told me I can honestly say that even I can’t begin to guess why he left you the way he did.” Jared opened his mouth, but Tahmoh placed a gentle finger against his lips, shushing him. “Let me finish, Jared. You’re a great guy; I knew that after five minutes of meeting you.” Jared couldn’t meet his gaze then and felt his face flush at his friend’s words; he wasn’t sure what to make of Tahmoh’s declaration or the touch of his hand. “And from everything you’ve shared with me, it sounds like Jensen is a pretty good guy, too. So, it doesn’t make sense that he left. But fate or kismet or divine whatever has brought you two back together and made it possible for you to get your answers. You just can’t leave now, Jared. You just can’t.”

Jared studied the dark brew in his mug for a few minutes before he met Tahmoh’s hard stare. “I’m afraid to find out what really happened,” he finally admitted. “After all these months, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“How bad could it really be?” he prodded and Jared looked at him with soft, moist eyes.

“It could be really bad, Tahmoh,” he whispered. “Like go-to-jail-do-not-pass-go bad.” And he watched carefully to gauge the older man’s reaction, searching for some sign of judgement. But Tahmoh only frowned at him, offering nothing more. “I know I’ve told you a lot about Jensen…probably more than you ever wanted to hear, but there was something I didn’t share. Mostly because I don’t believe it and because you never mentioned it, either.” Jared shivered and gripped his coffee tighter. When he stayed silent, Tahmoh slipped off his jacket and leaned over to wrap Jared up in it. He then rose and crossed the room to the still open door, closing it just as Mindy, who was obviously trying hard to look like she wasn’t snooping, passed slowly by. Jared didn’t miss that. Her cabin was the one closest to the dining room, after all.

When Tahmoh rejoined him on the bed, Jared asked, “So what did you tell them all after I took off like I did?” And he sipped his coffee while peering through shaggy bangs over at the man. He had to admit he was curious.

“That you’d been suffering from explosive diarrhea all morning and probably had to go again,” he deadpanned without missing a beat. Jared choked and nearly sprayed a mouthful of the beverage all over himself. Tahmoh gave his back a one-handed thump. Wiping a hand under his mouth, Jared said, “Did you really tell them that?”

Tahmoh grinned and plucked the nearly empty cup from Jared’s unresisting fingers. As he returned to the coffee maker, he replied, “Hey, it sure shut them up and kept anyone from asking any more awkward questions.” And he looked over his shoulder to give Jared a big smile, which Jared couldn’t help but return. He was starting to feel some of the tension slip away.

“Yeah, I guess, but ew,” he shuddered and unconsciously gripped his friend’s jacket a little tighter. It smelled a bit too much like the cologne Tahmoh favored, heavy and overpowering. But he couldn’t deny the extra heat helped settle the shakes he couldn’t seem to get rid of. Or that might have been the whiskey in his drink, he reasoned. That was probably helping, too. And he was going to need help if he was to get through his next confession to Tahmoh, so he readily accepted the refill the man offered him a minute later.

“Now,” Tahmoh prompted him quietly, “just what haven’t you told me?” Jared took a long sip and steeled himself for what he was about to share.

“Like I said,” he began, “I know I’ve probably bored you to tears with all my ramblings about Jensen. And you’ve been an amazing friend to put up with all of it. I think one of the reasons I was so comfortable talking about it all to you is because for you, it was all new, you know?” He paused to see if Tahmoh was following his logic and the other man nodded. “You were new and didn’t have all these preconceived notions about the two of us. It helped more than you’ll ever know for me to have someone to look with fresh eyes at my relationship, even though it didn’t ultimately answer my question of ‘why’. But in all of my verbal diarrhea, there was one thing I never mentioned.” Jared used the excuse of needing another drink to buy him a few seconds. Quietly, he continued.

“The day Jensen…moved out,” he struggled to say that part, “something disturbing happened at a project he was working on.”

“Disturbing how?” Tahmoh prodded for more clarification when Jared had gone quiet again.

“A man was found murdered at a waste treatment plant that was still under construction at the time,” Jared finally confessed. He took a big swig of his Irish coffee before he dared to meet Tahmoh’s eyes, needing the comfort the alcohol provided him. When he did meet them, Jared discovered there was still no judgement there, but something else that he couldn’t put his finger on. He fidgeted nervously.

“Okay, granted that’s a little disturbing,” Tahmoh agreed and then placed a hand on Jared’s knee to pat it reassuringly. “But what could that have to do with Jensen? I mean, I know firsthand how many people can be associated with building projects. You’ve got designers, electricians, plumbers, builders, and a plethora of inspectors to name a few. It wasn’t as though he was the only one connected with the location.” Jared smiled weakly at his friend and maybe his eyes watered a bit.

“I know that, too,” Jared said, swirling the liquid in his cup, “but there was something else.” He swallowed what was left in the mug and hardly noticed when Tahmoh took it away. Like magic, before Jared had a chance to think about it, the cup was full and in his hands again. He took another drink and felt the warmth that had been slowly returning to his body spread to reach his fingers and toes. He sighed in relief.

“What was it?” his friend asked.

Not realizing he had closed them, Jared opened his eyes and replied, “The morning that the guy was killed…” Tahmoh hummed his encouragement when nothing was immediately revealed. “The morning the guy was murdered,” Jared began again, “I know Jensen planned to go down and conduct a surprise inspection of the place. There was some issue about how the acids or alkalis were being neutralized or not being neutralized from the pharmaceutical waste and he wanted to catch them unaware. No one was supposed to be there but him. He’d made sure of it.” Stifling a small yawn, Jared had some more coffee. He was starting to lose track of how much he was drinking.

“And by that evening, he was gone,” Jared finished. “Just like that. And, to be honest, at first I didn’t make the connection. I had other…things on my mind. But a few nights after he’d left, I heard something about it on the evening news. It didn’t really register at the time. But Alex caught the same broadcast and she was the one to first point out to me the odd timing about everything. I have to admit, I was royally pissed at her for even suggesting it, but it stuck in the back of my mind, you know?” He swung his head unsteadily in Tahmoh’s direction, not really focusing, though.

“I mean, nothing about it made any sense. But I guess a lot of people feel that way when someone they love pulls the rug out from under their feet. You know? When they didn’t see it coming until they’re facing an empty closet?” And he waved a hand around dramatically, coffee sloshing over the rim of the cup. “I sure as hell didn’t see it coming.” The calm that had descended after Tahmoh arrived was evaporating faster than water in the Sahara. He shrugged off his friend’s jacket and stood up on slightly wobbly legs. When he spied the flask Tahmoh had been using to “Irish” up his coffee, he made a beeline for it. Topping up his mug, Jared had another hefty swallow – more liquor than caffeine now – and leaned against the edge of the desk for support, moral and otherwise, while Tahmoh tracked him carefully from his spot on the bed.

“And I know I probably should have told you this with all the other crap I dumped on you, but when you showed up at Sterling…man, you were like a breath of fresh air. You didn’t know me, didn’t know him, and most importantly didn’t know us. Out of all my friends, you were the one who could be the most objective about it. And, because you were new in town, you hadn’t heard that news, either. It’s like you were the only one around who wasn’t tainted by it.” Jared downed the rest of the contents of his cup and when he refilled it this time, he didn’t bother with the coffee at all.

After a length of silence, Jared started to feel like Tahmoh was scrutinizing him and that feeling, along with the alcohol, was making him edgy. “Well,” he finally relented, “what do you think after all this?” And he spread his arms sloppily, sad smirk on his face. “Guilty as charged, right? I fell for some kind of murderer.”

Tahmoh seemed to be weighing his words carefully. He cleared his throat and began, “I don’t think you fell for a murderer, Jared. Even though this is a bit surprising, I don’t think he did it.”

“How do you know he didn’t?” Jared argued, wanting to hear someone else agree with him about it all.

“Did the police ever come and question you about the murder?” he asked.

“No,” Jared murmured. “No one did.”

“And they would have certainly had a list at their disposal of everyone associated with the project, wouldn’t they?” Jared nodded, trying to focus on the logic behind Tahmoh’s reasoning.

“All I know about police procedure is how to _not_ talk my way out of a speeding ticket,” Jared huffed, “but I would have thought they would’ve asked me something at some point. Especially since Jensen wasn’t around. But no one ever came around. And I tried to follow the case, but it faded out of the news pretty quickly and I didn’t want to go through any official channels because…”

“Because you didn’t want to raise any red flags if they had missed Jensen, right?” Tahmoh guessed when Jared fell silent.

“Yeah,” he replied. “But what are the odds of Jensen being there alone with a dead guy? It seems like the perfect set up for a murder.” And he felt like a traitor for even saying those words out loud.

“Jared, for all you know, Jensen never even showed up. And even if he did, why in the world would he want to kill this guy? Who was the victim anyway?”

“I don’t know!” Jared screamed and threw his cup against the wall, jostling the desk badly in the process. The coffeemaker tipped over, the remaining liquid dripping onto the floor with a soft _plap_ - _plap-plap_. “It’s not like I could have asked him, now could I?”

Tahmoh jumped up and grabbed Jared, steadying and restraining him at the same time. “That’s just it, Jared. You can ask him now. And you should.” Jared lurched in his arms and Tahmoh guided him back to the bed. “But now I think you should lie down. It’s been a long day and you’ve had more than your fair share of surprises. C’mon,” he cajoled, not waiting for an answer.

Jared slumped onto the bed, barely awake. The adrenalin crash coupled with the whiskey was rapidly pulling him under. He was vaguely aware of Tahmoh lifting his legs up and moving his half-packed duffle back in front of the closet. The room was swimming and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. He was so tired, so tired of being the only one to believe in Jensen. He desperately needed someone else to believe, too.

The older man leaned over him and brushed the hair away from his eyes. “I’ll grab you some dinner and bring it back here tonight. Go to sleep, Jared,” he urged him. “We can talk more later on when you’ll actually remember it.”

Jared weakly pawed at his arm, only one question on his mind. “You don’t think he did it?” he whispered, wanting to hear someone else say it.

“No, Jared,” Tahmoh answered without hesitation. “I know he didn’t. And so do you.”

“Sleep” was the last thing Jared heard before he was gone.


	9. Dinner

**Dinner**

 

Jensen could only stand and stare as Jared took off down the shoreline without another word. What could he say that would make up for the last eight months and seventeen days? _Sorry I left like a thief in the night? Sorry I broke your heart? Would you believe me if I told you I broke mine, too?_ He had to do something, dammit. But it wasn’t like he could’ve made a move to explain anything in front of all these witnesses or done what he had longed to the second he set eyes on Jared again. Too many months had gone into this for him to throw it all away now. His hands were tied, despite the curveball fate had thrown his way. But still, he burned to talk to Jared. Jensen couldn’t get the image of him, bundled up in his jacket and jeans, first seething and then practically rattling apart at the seams. His face was so sharp and severe, but his multi-colored eyes were wrecked.

Before he could make any kind of move, the tall guy who had been joking and teasing and _touching_ Jared tapped another man – Sterling, Jensen remembered – on the shoulder and spoke softly to him. Sterling looked like he’d been expecting Tahmoh to offer up some sort of explanation and the other man did not disappoint.

“Sorry about that,” he started in a ridiculously calm voice, pitched so only a few could hear. “Jared didn’t want anyone to know, but he’s been off since yesterday’s boat trip.” A bald face lie, since Jensen was fairly confident he knew exactly why Jared had fled the scene and it wasn’t because of any motion sickness.

“Not much of a sailor,” the other man asked, with a hint of sarcasm. It was clear their boss was not impressed by the behavior. Jensen watched as Jared’s _friend_ didn’t rise to the bait.

“No, sir. With the flight from Dallas and then the puddle jumper, the water taxi on top of all that was kind of the last straw. He was a mess last night, but he kept quiet about it this morning because he knows how excited everyone was for this trip. I think he was embarrassed to admit he doesn’t travel well,” Tahmoh finished with a sincere tone.

He was smooth, Jensen thought, the way he covered for Jared while slipping in a subtle jab to their boss that he had made his people jump through more than a few hoops for his fun and games. A boss who was wearing “outdoor” clothing – some of REI’s best – so new, Jensen could still see the creases from where they had been folded for shipping. And the guy’s ploy worked, judging by the other man’s expression.

“I suppose I didn’t even consider that some might have issues with kinetosis and whatnot.” He paused while thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Planes, buses, boat rides. That is a significant amount of travel in one day. Why don’t you see if he’s all right and don’t worry about this,” he gestured in Jensen’s general direction dismissively. “It’s not that important.”

The other man nodded in gratitude, murmuring quiet thanks, and headed off in the same direction as Jared, only at a slightly slower pace. As he disappeared around the rocks, Sterling spoke up. “Jared’s a little under the weather, so we’re going to carry on without him. Now,” he paused and nodded to the blonde woman, “what’s this about a fairy in the water?”

The remaining people giggled as the blonde pointed eagerly to the tide pool. “It’s right there,” she exclaimed. “Look at it! It looks kinda like a pink starburst and all its little wings are trimmed in pink!”

Jensen had no choice but to tear his eyes away from the route Jared had taken to flee from him and examine the woman’s “fairy”. At least that gave him something else to focus on and distract his aching heart. The others parted easily, making room so he could stand next to her, although a tall blond man hovered close. Probably a boyfriend, Jensen guessed, by his slightly possessive stance. Lucky man.

“What is it?” she asked, as everyone was able to spot the strange creature, no more than three inches long, undulating across a rock, every bit the fairy she described.

“That is commonly known as an alabaster nudibranch,” Jensen explained as he squatted by the edge of the pool. He faced her, shading his eyes against the sun, and added, “You don’t often get to see this species, so we were pretty lucky today. The bay here is the beginning of their North American range, extending south as far as California.”

“What are those wings for?” Katie asked. “They don’t look like they’re for protection. Camouflage maybe?”

Jensen nodded his head, losing himself and his worries recalling the creature’s biology. “That’s a good guess, but not really. Those white tipped ‘wings’ are actually part of its respiratory system.”

“Wow, that’s wild,” Gabe said, also squatting to get a better view of it.

Shaking his head, Jensen continued, “That’s not the wildest around here. You see that red thing with the thorny body, roughly the size of a cucumber?” When most of them nodded, Jensen said, “That’s a red sea cucumber and it has a pair of ‘respiratory trees’ that branch out inside its anus to extract oxygen from the water.”

Much like a kid in school, Gabe snickered into his hand. “It breathes through its ass?”

“Mr. Tigerman, please,” Sterling scolded him, but even he had a smile on his face.

“Guess it’s better than talking out of it,” he mumbled.

“Well, I think we’ll end the lesson on that note,” Jensen told them as he gave the pool one last perusal in case there was something extremely unusual he had missed. It appeared, however, that they had spotted all the treasures it had to offer for the day.

There was no need for Jensen to lead the walk back as everyone simply had to follow the shoreline. He noticed folks naturally broke up into smaller groups, cliques obviously evident. Bringing up the rear, he couldn’t help but overhear a red-headed woman, at the tail end of the group, speaking sotto voce to her companion.

“Pretty interesting how Tahmoh and Jared got to ditch the nature tour together, huh?”

“Those two are as thick as thieves,” the other replied, to which the red-haired woman giggled.

“Makes you wonder…”

 _Makes you wonder what ?_ Jensen wanted to demand. But the two women simply exchanged knowing glances and changed topics after someone in front of them scowled back at them from over his shoulder. Jensen wished the man hadn’t thrown ice water on the conversation, desperate to hear more. The guy’s – Tahmoh’s – words from earlier played in a loop over and over in Jensen’s mind.

_“I told you you’d left that beanie in **my** room.”_

_“You’d crash and burn **without** **me**.”_

_“Not still hungover from last night, are you?”_

_“I thought **we’d** decided that you were going to ‘seize new challenges with both hands’. At least, that’s what you were proclaiming last night after your fourth China Poot Porter.”_

Jared had been in his room last night. That much was obviously clear. And, by the sounds of it, he had been drinking heavily while he was there. The Jared he remembered was a notorious lightweight. After two beers, he could be counted on to start singing “Can’t Buy Me Love” or “Strawberry Fields Forever” and not in a good way, either. There was that one particularly memorable time he sang “Wind Beneath My Wings” at a karaoke bar so horribly that they actually banned him from returning for an entire month. And never mind what he was like with anything stronger in him. Now he was drinking four or more beers in an evening with this Tahmoh? And they were the pair late to arrive…together.

As Jensen barely minded his footing on the path back to the lodge, he couldn’t let go of the fact that Jared seemed pretty close to a man that eight months ago wasn’t even on their radar. From what little he gleaned from his eavesdropping efforts, Tahmoh had shown up after Jared started at Sterling, Inc. That was another piece of the puzzle that Jensen was so far removed from that he wasn’t even able to see the finished picture. Jared had been happy at Yellow Brick Rhodes, terrible pun aside, when they were together. Kim Rhodes and her partner, Felicia Day, were amazing women. And the company, while fairly small, was one that Jensen had a lot of fond memories of and he knew Jared did, too. He couldn’t contemplate Jared leaving, even though Sterling, Inc. was more prestigious. Jared wasn’t a fame chaser, no matter how fast his star was rising.

There were so many questions swirling around in his head. On top of it all, there was still the matter of his own secrets. He wasn’t sure what he should or even could share with Jared. There was no scenario that he envisioned with him demanding to know what had happened to Jared without some sort of reciprocal explanation occurring. Jensen wasn’t sure he could risk it. His secrets affected Jared almost as much as they affected him. It was suddenly so much more a mess and Jensen was genuinely at a loss as to how to proceed. So caught up in his whirlwind thoughts, he nearly crashed into the aptly named Crash. The lab mix practically bowled him over with his eager prance. Only Traci’s steadying hand kept him from stumbling.

“Whoa there, cowboy. What’s got your head up in the clouds?” she wondered as Jensen leaned down to give the dog a good rub behind his ears. Crash immediately sat down and began to helplessly scratch at his chest with a hind leg because of it.

“Sorry, Trace, just had a lot on my mind all of a sudden.” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and watched as the guests disappeared inside to reclaim their shoes. He deliberated if Jared’s were still there, forgotten in his rush to escape. Maybe he could bring them to the other man and use that as a sort of icebreaker, talk to him in the privacy of his cabin, tell him something.

“Well, the folks sound like they had a good time, even if they didn’t all stick around for your talk. I saw one of them run down the path like a bat out of hell a while back and then a second one showed up not too long after,” she told him as she, too, leaned down to scratch Crash. The dog’s tail whipped back and forth so hard, Jensen felt like a steel cable was hitting his calves.

“I asked him about it when he came to get his and his buddy’s shoes,” Jensen deflated when he heard that, “but he said it was just a case of nausea. Geez, Jensen, I know you can be annoying, but you made the guy sick to his stomach!” When he didn’t say anything to that, Traci looked worried. “I’m just kidding, cowboy. Misha mentioned something about the kid not ‘appreciating’ his dinner last night and leaving too much behind. Sounds like he just didn’t travel too well.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like Misha’s weird dishes,” Jensen lamely joked, wanting to distract Traci before she asked him any awkward questions. “I did get a glimpse of tonight’s menu, after all. His ‘tempura of the day’s finds’ is fiddleheads, horsetail and Devil’s Club.” And he shuddered at the last one on the list. Traci slapped his arm.

“Hey, Blue Eyes is very proud of his ‘Hunter, Fisher, Forager’ dinner. And there’s grilled halibut, so it’s not too weird.”

“Yeah, in a stinging nettle sauce,” Jensen muttered. “Yummy.”

“You damn well know it is, bub. Now behave or I won’t invite you to dinner.” Jensen was surprised at that. Usually, Misha put a plate aside and he grabbed it from the kitchen later. It worked out well because he never wanted to mingle with the guests. He gave Traci a sideways glance, wondering how in the hell he was going to face Jared.

“Don’t be like that, Jensen. I know this isn’t how you normally play it, but this group was really buzzing when they cornered me just now and had too many questions I couldn’t answer. I need your help here. As a personal favor for me, please?” And Jensen was done then. There was no way he could refuse Traci when she’d been so accommodating to him and done so much above and beyond the call of duty time and time again during his extended stay. And he knew she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

“All right, I’ll do it,” he sighed. “But I’m not touching Misha’s tempura,” he added, poking his finger into her sternum when she laughed. “You play dirty pool, lady.”

“Is there any other way to play? Just be here around six-ish and do something about that mountain man smell you’re rockin’ right now, will ya? C’mon, Crash, let’s go chase some squirrels, huh?” The dog was off like a shot as soon as he heard “squirrels”, his most hated enemies. Jensen heard Traci’s laughter fade into the afternoon breeze.

“Just peachy,” he mumbled and stomped off to his cabin, completely forgetting his hiking boots in the process.

And that was how, a few hours later, he found himself nervously making his way from his cabin to the main house in his socks, grumbling and hopping until he opened the door and spotted his boots right where he’d left them on the hearth. They were certainly warm after all the hours they spent by the fire. Jensen pretended not to notice that his hands shook as he laced them up. Two hours later and he still was no closer to figuring out how to approach Jared than he had before. But, as the sounds of dishes clinking and conversation floated out of the dining room, Jensen knew he’d run out of time and excuses. He slapped his palms against his thighs and stood up, brushing imaginary lint from his pants.

He’d dressed carefully for dinner, foregoing his usual jeans for the one pair of khaki pants he’d brought with him and a green button-down that he knew brought out the color of his eyes. The only bit of “regular” attire he sported was his pair of hiking boots, because the only other options were flip-flops or his neoprene kayaking boots. He decided the hiking boots were the lesser of those evils. His hair had been uncooperative and stood up in spikes, giving him a slightly porcupine look.

Taking a deep breath, Jensen passed the front desk and entered the dining room, where the meal was well underway. Despite his endless teasing of Misha, Jensen knew the guests were seriously enjoying his varied menu and tonight was no exception. Without trying to appear obvious, Jensen went over to the buffet table and tried to catch a glimpse of Jared. Even seated, he was always easy to spot, being so tall. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Jensen exhaled and wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment that caused his tense shoulders to sag. He loaded his plate absently, turning to figure out where to sit, when Sterling Brown caught his attention and waved him over. There was an empty seat to the right of him and he clearly meant for Jensen to join him there. Jensen resigned himself to it and put on his game face. Only when he pulled out the seat did it falter the tiniest bit. Tahmoh was seated on Jensen’s other side.

“Ah, Jensen, so glad you could join us,” Sterling began smoothly. He was dressed in a similar fashion to Jensen and seemed infinitely more comfortable that way. He made an encompassing motion with his fork and said, “We were all delighted by this afternoon’s lecture and a few of us have some additional questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

Yes, Jensen minded. He didn’t picture himself as a lecturer and after seeing Jared, his nerves were wound tight. He wanted nothing more than to see his lover or run for the hills. Both impulses were warring for dominance. Trying to eat a meal and conduct a civilized conversation were activities at the very bottom of the heap as far as he was concerned. But he owed Traci, so he smiled politely and began fielding questions.

The meal progressed smoothly and Jensen was able to entertain the team with anecdotes and information that amazed most of them and he managed to steer them away from any ass related inquiries. He would, from time to time, steal a surreptitious glance at Tahmoh, but the man didn’t say a word. By the time the meal wound down, Jensen hadn’t learned anything more about the man and he decided he needed to before he finally spoke with Jared. If Jared and Tahmoh were currently involved with each other, it would drastically affect what he would tell the younger man. When Misha came over with a basket for Tahmoh, the other man accepted it gratefully and walked over to the buffet table. That, Jensen decided, was his opening. Grabbing his half-full plate, he offered a few apologies to the rest of the table and joined Tahmoh by the food.

While Tahmoh was filling a container with some of the grilled halibut, Jensen took the opportunity to take a good look at the man. Jensen’s best guess placed the guy in his late thirties, a few years older than himself and about ten older than Jared. He was an inch or so taller than Jensen and not many could claim that. His hair was darker brown than his own, but kept short like his. In profile, Jensen could see his nose was hawk-like. His cheeks were chiseled and he had a strong jaw. He even had greenish eyes and Jensen felt his heart sink. There was no denying he and the man shared more than a few similar characteristics, which all pointed to Jared having replaced him. And he didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t want Jared to sit around pining after him, but he didn’t want him moving on, either. As he debated back and forth with himself, he didn’t realize he had kept staring at the man until Tahmoh cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow at him. Caught out, Jensen said the first thing he could think of.

“Getting something for your buddy? Is he still feeling under the weather?” Jensen fiddled with his silver while appearing to study the banquet spread.

After an uncomfortably long silence, Tahmoh replied quietly, “You can drop the act, Ackles.” At hearing his last name spoken out loud after months of anonymity, Jensen couldn’t help but glance around the room nervously. Of the few guests that had lingered over their desserts, none seemed to have paid any mind to Tahmoh and him. He breathed a little easier.

“I know all about you,” he warned and Jensen’s pulse started to climb.

“Just what do you know?” he asked, throat drying out.

Tahmoh smiled and nodded and it took a second for Jensen to realize he was acknowledging a colleague, not him.

“Bringing that to Jared?” the woman wondered and Jensen realized it was the red-headed busybody. Of course, she’d want to know.

“Absolutely, Mindy. I’m hoping this grilled fish will tempt him to eat something and I was also hoping Jensen here would be willing to talk to him and fill him in on all he missed out on today,” he replied sweetly. The woman edged closer, clearly wanting to hear more. “I figure he’d love to hear about the ass breathing. And how those things can literally shit out parts of their intestines to distract predators.” And his smile grew wider as the woman huffed in outrage and walked off, apparently offended by anus-related topics. He was good at manipulating people, Jensen realized. He wondered if he played Jared, too.

“You’re not talking to him tonight,” Tahmoh informed him as soon as the woman was out of range. Jensen bristled at the inherent command in the other man’s voice, as though he had the right to decide who could and couldn’t see Jared. Tahmoh continued, unaware of Jensen’s growing anger, “He’s not feeling well and you definitely won’t help improve his condition if you confront him the way you are right now.” Okay, maybe the man did recognize how livid he was.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t talk to him, because you owe him that.” He paused and looked down his nose at Jensen, apparently sizing him up as well. “You definitely have to make things right and settle up your debt before this trip is over.” He clicked the lid on the Tupperware container with a decisive snap, essentially signaling the end of the conversation. Placing it in the basket, Tahmoh walked around Jensen and “accidently” knocked his shoulder against him as he did so. Jensen clenched his plate tight enough he thought he heard a crack. As he watched the man leave, Jensen saw that most of the others had long since gone as well. He abandoned his plate at the buffet and stormed out.

When he stripped his clothes off later that night, tossing them carelessly into a pile, Jensen was determined to find a way to talk to Jared on his own terms, without Tahmoh acting as a mediator. He didn’t know how he felt about the guy’s implication that he knew him and he couldn’t help but wonder what Jared had shared with the man. And what he might be sharing now between them, what they were to each other. It was going to eat him alive if he didn’t find out and he decided he needed to tell Jared what he could, no matter how painful it would be. As he threw back the covers on his bed, he came up with a plan. He leaned over and set his alarm clock, knowing just how he’d get Jared alone.

 

 


	10. June 9th

**June 9 th**

 

After about thirty minutes, Jared was not only angry, but angry and tired. He was hoping the pre-dawn run would’ve helped clear his head, but all it had accomplished was make his skull pound harder and demonstrate how out of shape he had become. Jogging with a hangover was absolutely miserable, but it was something Jared had to do.

Before everything fell apart back in Austin, Jared would rise every morning before dawn and run a few miles, even on his days off. The only time he skipped out was if Jensen happened to be awake and found a clever way to convince him to linger in bed. The routine helped to wake him up and get him in the right headspace for the day, not to mention the obvious benefits of maintaining muscle tone and stamina. But after Jensen left, a lot of what Jared used to do fell by the wayside. Running was one of those casualties.

When he saw what condition Jensen was in yesterday – the obvious muscles barely concealed by his clothes – he realized that Jensen hadn’t let himself go the way Jared had. It was another clear indication how little an impact his abandonment had been on the man, who seemed better than ever. And after he had woken up from his whiskey-fueled dreams to pick at the dinner Tahmoh had thoughtfully left for him, he decided it was time to reclaim his old life and the best way to do that was to jump back into the healthy routines he used to live by.

So he dutifully set his alarm for an ungodly hour and, at the appointed time, he donned t-shirt, cut-off sweats and a hoodie to head off down the shoreline. Running along the bay proved more demanding than he had anticipated in more ways than one. Besides his throbbing skull and wasted muscles, there was the route itself. Instead of just sand, which was a whole different kind of challenge with its reduced surface friction, the bay’s shoreline was a mix of that and rocks and pebbles. So he had to keep an eye on his course more than the landscape, because there was no way in hell he was going to chance taking a tumble around here and end up stranded in the surf. With his crappy luck, they’d send Jensen out to rescue him like he was some kind of damsel in distress straight out of a cheesy, Harlequin romance. Not going to happen.

Having warmed up some, Jared pulled off his hoodie and tied it around his waist. He used the break to stretch his quads, noticing that his left ankle felt weaker than his right. While he caught his breath, he was also able to catch a glimpse of the sunrise. There was no other way to describe the view as anything less than spectacular. The cloudy sky was a blotchy mess of steel gray and lumps of cobalt blue. The sun, barely over the mountain peaks, edged everything in blushing gold. And the lapping of the water was a soothing trance soundtrack in the background. Only a few birds were active at that early an hour and Jared found the setting peaceful. He decided he was going to take advantage of it for the rest of his stay.

And he would be staying, in no small part because of Tahmoh’s advice. Jared shook his head at the tenacity of his friend, who refused to let Jared run away and hide like a coward. He pulled out the tried and true analogy of ripping off a Band-Aid, getting it over with quickly and letting air in to heal the wound. Clichéd but all true, Jared realized. It was something that had to be done. He only needed to figure out how best to approach Jensen. Their meeting had to be on his terms, of that he was certain. When Jensen left, Jared felt that the man had been holding all the cards to their relationship and he had been left in total darkness. To help himself regain an even keel in his life, Jared was going to have to finally take back some control over what was left of their lifeless bond. He’d gone through most of the stages of grief, although Jensen’s disappearance deprived him of the humiliating bargaining phase. And Jared knew without a doubt he would have thrown away his pride in a heartbeat for Jensen if the man had stuck around long enough because he believed they meant everything to one another. But not anymore. Maybe he was reaching the last stage of grief – acceptance.

A biting wind slithered across his back and Jared took that as his cue to start running again. He was able to put aside his ego enough to recognize that he needed to turn around and go back to the cabin. If he pushed much farther, he’d be a mess tomorrow and he definitely wanted to run the course again. Maybe it was endorphins or maybe it was that he believed closure was within his reach, but Jared felt better than he had in months, even with the remnants of a headache. He even managed to squeeze out a sprint once he climbed the hill back to the cabins. What he found waiting for him back there set him back on his heels.

“Jensen,” he panted, gripping his side with one hand. He didn’t know if it was a cramp from the run or nausea at discovering the man sitting on one of the Adirondack chairs of his cabin, waiting for him.

Jared couldn’t help taking in the sight of him, though. Even at this hour of the morning, Jensen could have been posing for a magazine. Dressed much as he had been yesterday, he appeared to be very much in his element, with his effortlessly faded jeans and weathered, oilskin jacket. His hair, spiky as always, looked perfect. Jared unconsciously yanked his beanie down and stared at his feet. When he glanced back through his long lashes at Jensen, he saw that the man was gaping at Jared’s legs and scowling. Awkwardly, Jared tugged at his ragged sweats, cut off barely above his knobby knees. And apparently Jensen’s critical assessment didn’t stop there as his gaze travelled up the length of Jared’s thin torso and lingered somewhere around his collar bones. Jared knew he was a sweaty mess; he didn’t need Jensen passing judgement over him.

“Jesus, Jared, put your hoodie back on,” he snapped, rising from the chair.

_Jensen wanted him to cover up? Was he that terrible to look at? Who did he think he was?_

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” is what actually came out of Jared’s mouth and he forced back a shiver, the heat he’d generated from his run rapidly dwindling in the cool, morning air. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to pull his sweatshirt back on or, preferably, slip into a hot shower, but he was damned if he was going to let Jensen order him around. Not now.

Jensen’s mouth opened and then snapped shut quickly. Jared could tell that he badly wanted to say something but had apparently thought better of it at the last minute. Fine. Let him stew. Jared stepped over to the far side of the porch railing and proceeded to go through a few cool-down stretches, still mindful of his weaker ankle, but doing a respectable job of pretending Jensen wasn’t there.

“I’m glad I found you,” Jensen began and that was definitely the wrong thing to say. Jared whirled around and stomped over to him, with only the porch railing separating them.

“Well played, Ackles,” he hissed and slapped his hands onto the rail, angry and needing to channel that energy somewhere. He was secretly pleased when Jensen flinched at the crack his hands made against the wood. “You could give Sherlock Holmes a run for his money with the keen skills you must have used to find me at my own fucking cabin. How long did it take, hmm? A minute? Two? When you were ready to? How convenient for _you_.” Jensen was shocked into silence.

“Too bad I can’t say the same. Do you want to know how long I looked? Do you want to know how hard I looked? But no matter how long or where, I couldn’t find a damn clue to tip me off where you might’ve gone. And it’s not like I could exactly go to the cops for help, now could I? File a missing persons report? That would have gone over well. Of course, when I think about it, bumfuck Alaska would never have made my top twenty guesses. Never pictured you as the Brawny paper towel guy, that’s for sure.” He waved a hand towards Jensen. “But what do I know? I sure as hell didn’t know you, as it turned out.” Jared glared at him, not knowing what else to say. He felt ambushed by Jensen’s surprise appearance and he wasn’t ready for a confrontation or explanation yet. Apparently acceptance was out the window and he was thrown right back to anger.

“You do know me, Jay, and I know you,” Jensen eventually replied, but he didn’t make a move to touch Jared.

“You don’t know me at all,” Jared practically shouted back at him. “Not anymore.” And he spun around, unable to meet Jensen’s eyes, so green and peaceful like the heart of a forest.

“I knew you’d be running this morning. You haven’t changed that much,” he said much more quietly than Jared and Jared was certain he could feel Jensen running his eyes up and down the length of his body.

Without facing him, Jared snorted. “You showed up at my cabin. Of course you were going to find me, one way or another.”

“True, but if I hadn’t expected to find you coming back from a run, I would have come bearing coffee instead of Irish Breakfast tea with cream and way too much sugar.”

Jared stiffened. For some odd reason, he always craved that tea after jogging. On the very first morning that he finally began to reclaim his old life, embraced what he used to enjoy, that would be the morning Jensen was waiting for him with his tea, like there weren’t miles between them. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but his body had figured it out. There was the tell-tale sting of tears beginning to form, but he wouldn’t give Jensen that satisfaction.

“Take your fucking tea and get the hell out of here!” he yelled. He wasn’t certain, but Jared thought he heard Tahmoh’s door creak open then. He didn’t care if he woke everybody up at this point. He was livid and shaking.

“Jay, c’mon, please look at me,” Jensen practically begged of him. “Please.”

Jared couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Jensen sound like that and then almost giggled at his own choice of words. His body, it appeared, felt free to do whatever it wanted to with or without his say so and ran the gamut of emotions in the blink of an eye. Jared couldn’t remember the last time he had heard _his_ Jensen. His Jensen had left him. But, as pissed off as he was, he knew he was hearing him now and so he turned around.

“Jay, please let me explain,” he said. Jared’s stomach plunged at the words he’d dreamed about hearing for the last eight months and eighteen days. This was it, what a hackneyed writer would label as the “moment of truth”.

“Okay,” he whispered, even though he was far from okay. But with his agreement, Jensen’s whole face lit up and it was the face Jared had known and loved for so many years. He grabbed the railing, feeling his knees threaten to buckle, and waited.

“Not now,” Jensen answered and Jared jolted like someone had dumped ice water over him. Of course, not now. Jensen was going to keep holding all the cards and jerk him around some more.

“God, I’m so stupid,” he admitted with a shake of his head.

“No, you’re not,” Jensen insisted and almost touched his hand, but caught himself.

“Then let’s talk now,” he demanded.

But rather than answer him, Jensen glanced right and then left. Jared was vaguely aware that not only Tahmoh’s door was open, but a few others as well. They must have heard him after all. And he could concede the fact that they were going to need some privacy, deserved it even. He sighed and yanked off his beanie, shaking out his hair. “A little too public for you?” he conceded.

“A little,” Jensen shifted around. Jared thought for a moment.

“There’s supposed to be some kind of overnight trip today to some place called Halibut Cove and something Island,” he began.

“Gull Island,” Jensen supplied the name and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Right, Bird Poop Island,” Jared tried for snippy, but it came out almost joking. “I’ll figure out a way to bail on the trip and then you and I will pretty much have the place to ourselves. Is that good enough for you?”

“That should work,” Jensen answered.

“Just hope I can come up with something Sterling will buy,” Jared groused. He caught Jensen shoot Tahmoh a quick glare before turning back.

“I’m sure your _friend_ will help you come up with something,” he bit out and then stepped off the porch. As he walked away, he never looked back. Jared slowly realized that Jensen was jealous and given everything that had happened between them, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

Giving Tahmoh what he hoped was a “tell you later” gesture, Jared trudged up the steps, only stopping by the small table beside one of the wooden chairs. There, a lone mug still steamed in the brisk morning air. Making sure no one saw him, he snatched it up and took a long sniff, letting the cup warm his fingers. When he took a sip, it tasted like home.

                                                                                                *****

A long shower later, Jared changed into his jeans and a few layers of shirts. June was living up to what their itinerary promised, with temperatures barley cresting sixty degrees during the warmest part of the day, sometimes less. And he definitely felt chilled. As he was lacing up his boots, there was a knock at the door.

Swallowing hard, not knowing who to expect after his early morning surprise, Jared answered nervously, “Come on in.” And he breathed out a huge sigh when Tahmoh popped inside, another basket in hand.

“You know, I’m going to start charging you for room service,” he joked as he placed the basket on the small table near the window. “Or Misha is. I think you’re giving him an aneurysm by missing so many of his meals.”

Jared smiled and it was almost a deep enough one to bring out his dimples. He had always cringed at having them, being a guy and all, but even he knew they had all but disappeared when Jensen did. He’d pondered the import of them making a reappearance later. “I owe you one.”

Plopping down next to him, Tahmoh slapped his thigh good-naturedly. “You owe me more than one, buddy.”

“What do you mean?” Jared asked.

“Well, I kind of exaggerated when I said to you that I told everybody you had explosive diarrhea yesterday,” he snickered. “Actually, I really told Sterling you suffered from seasickness and were too embarrassed to say anything about it.”

“Really?”

“Trust me, boss man felt pretty bad about it since he never considered anybody having trouble travelling out here when he made these plans. So he was more than willing to give you a pass at spending most of a day on a boat.”

“You’re the best,” Jared grinned and clapped his shoulder.

“Yes, I am,” the older man agreed with a faint smile. “And I will be around if you need any moral support today.”

“Really? Sterling let you off the hook, too?”

“I told him it would be kind of crummy to leave you here all alone. Apparently just about everybody is going. Misha said something about needing some fireweed honey and Traci wanted to pick up a painting someone at that artist community in Halibut Cove had finished for her,” Tahmoh explained. “To be honest, I think she wants to spend time with J.D. and is using the painting as an excuse.”

“I think you’re right, but are you sure about missing out on the trip?” Jared asked him, not wanting to take advantage of Tahmoh.

“I think I’ll be okay if I miss a few seashell wind chimes and woodblock prints of orcas,” he assured Jared and then patted his knee again. “I told Sterling we’d use the time to get a head start on his scavenger hunt challenge.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and showed it to Jared.

It was a long list of local animals, plants, flowers and trees that the man had come up with. Everyone was supposed to go out at some point on the trip, along the hiking trails, and snap photos of as many of the things off the list as possible. Whichever team nabbed the most would get a paid Friday off. The promise of a long weekend sounded good to Jared.

“Besides,” Tahmoh explained, “I figured you might need a sounding board before your talk with Jensen and a nice hike through the woods might help to burn off some of that nervous energy of yours.” He pointedly eyed Jared’s jittery, tapping foot.

Jared blushed and dropped his head. “Busted,” he huffed breathlessly. “This is just…big, you know?”

“Trust me, I can appreciate just how important this is.”

Jared lifted his gaze and smiled at his friend, grateful for the unconditional support he always seemed to offer. “Let me grab a quick bite and then we can hunt down Yogi Bear. I can always use my picnic basket as a lure,” Jared joked as he sat down in front of his breakfast.

“Why don’t we give Yogi a pass? I don’t think he made the list.”

“Boo-Boo then?” Jared asked around a mouthful of eggs.

Tahmoh shook his head in exasperation even as he smirked at Jared. “Eat,” he motioned with a snap of his head towards the basket.

As Jared jabbed his fork into another mound of fluffy, scrambled eggs, he noticed for the first time in a long time, he was actually hungry. Maybe he wouldn’t have anything to bait Yogi with after all, he thought with a smile.


	11. Late Afternoon

**Late Afternoon**

 

Jared rubbed absently at his eyes and wondered why his face felt wet. Had he drooled in his sleep? Jensen would never let him live it down if he found him lying in a pool of his own spit again. The man didn’t need any more ammunition to use against him; he had an extensive arsenal already. Pushing himself up from the bed was a ridiculous struggle. His arms were like Jell-O and his head was beating a snare drum solo. Too many beers again then, because Jensen couldn’t walk in and find him drowning in his own drool; Jensen was gone. That was it. Alcohol. Explained the hangover but didn’t explain why the bed was so lumpy and cold, though. And if he had been drooling, what was dripping down his forehead?

Jared managed to heave himself up to his elbows and blinked at his surroundings. He definitely felt fuzzy, but something about that feeling wasn’t like any hangover he’d suffered through before. And something nearby smelled like mold and rotted wood and copper. Shivering, he searched for a blanket and dimly became aware of the fact that there was no blanket because there was no bed. With more effort than it should have warranted, Jared managed to struggle to his knees. But as soon as he was upright, hot bile raced up his throat. He pitched forward and vomited, barely stopping himself from face planting into the foul mess. He threw up until only strings of yellow saliva dangled from his mouth. Slamming his eyes shut against the sudden dizziness and nausea, he prayed he wouldn’t vomit again. For some reason Jared didn’t understand, his ribs ached and the force of his vomiting had really hurt.

He scrubbed at his mouth as soon as he felt settled enough to open his eyes again and then frowned at the mess on his hand. With nothing else available, he finally wiped it along his jeans, but frowned when he discovered they were already damp. Trying to focus on the rhythmic lapping off to his left, he recognized the odor and could almost taste the metallic tang of what was running down the side of his face. Jared brushed his fingertips along his left cheek and wasn’t surprised when they came back stained red. Following the source, he prodded under his beanie at his forehead and discovered a small lump high up on the left side.

He sat there in a daze, trying to remember what had happened. With glazed eyes, he stared at the lake not three feet from where he was kneeling. The lake. That was a place to start. The deep blue-green lake with the huge, glacial peak rising behind it. The nearly mile long lake that was still partially frozen along the side closest to the glacier that fed it, even though it was June. Jared let his eyes roam along the water’s edge to the shore where he was kneeling. Like the bay, the lake’s shore was covered in pebbles and rocks. A few rotted logs were nearby, where they had dropped after, or maybe during, last winter. Jared shivered. There was a steep incline to his right, dotted with pine trees and larger rocks. It didn’t look like he could have walked down from there very easily, if at all. Had he walked along the narrow shore and fallen down?

Jared shook his head, thinking that might clear out the cobwebs, but all he succeeded in doing was nearly vomiting again. He gingerly placed his hand against the injured side of his head and tried really hard to remember just what the hell had happened. Another chill raced up and down his spine, so Jared decided that he should give his legs a try and move around to generate some much-needed body heat. Like a young horse’s, his legs wobbled but held as he carefully stood up. There was a moment of lightheadedness, but it passed after twenty or thirty seconds and he remained upright.

“Hello?” he called out and winced at the pain that lanced though his head at the sound of his own voice. Squinting, he turned around in an unsteady circle, but there was no one visible as far as the eye could see. A lone hawk cawed in the distance. It was a mournful sound.

“All right,” he reasoned, “I should call for help, because I obviously need help.” That seemed like a reasonable train of thought and he patted his jacket down, searching for his cell. The elation he felt when he found it in an outer pocket disappeared at the sight of it. The glass face was broken, spiderweb-like cracks covered half the surface and one corner was partially crushed. Still, he gave it a shot, but the only thing he managed to do was open up his photo album. He was barely able to make out the moose resting in some brush on the screen. Tahmoh and he had been thrilled to find the creature and guesstimated its antlers had a six foot span. Tahmoh. He suddenly latched onto that memory as he slipped the phone back in his pocket.

Tahmoh and he had been hiking together, taking photos of animals and plants off of some list. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the paper that Sterling had left for them all in their arrival packet. It was the checklist for the boss’s scavenger hunt. And he had scratched off quite a few of the things on it. Now memories were starting to trickle back more vividly. He and Tahmoh had left the resort area not too long after he had finished breakfast – the memory of eating those eggs almost made him throw up again – because…because why? As he tried to recollect more of the morning, he crumpled up the list and let it drop from his numb fingers. He needed to get moving and get his blood circulating again, not worry about finding a black cottonwood tree or a wild iris.

He started walking along the shoreline, since the sheer slope was a no-go in his current condition. Being stiff from having lain practically in the water for who knew how long, the slow pace he set did little to warm him up. He picked his way carefully over fallen logs and continued to mull over what had happened. He remembered that Tahmoh wanted Jared to burn off some energy before he was supposed to do something later that afternoon and they agreed a hike would be perfect for that and for playing Sterling’s game. They could kill two birds with one stone, Tahmoh had pointed out. Jared didn’t know how long ago that was. He couldn’t make out the time on his phone and he’d left his watch back at home, wanting to treat the trip like a true vacation. Tipping his head back to gauge the sun’s position almost had him crumbling to the ground. Apparently, he was able to keep his head mostly straight without feeling sick to his stomach and that was it. Any movement up or down had him spinning from incredible dizziness.

He flexed his hands as he shuffled along, desperately trying to force blood back into the cold digits. In addition to his stiff limbs, Jared noticed his left ankle – the one that had bothered him during his morning run – was still weak. He’d have to walk back to the lodge very carefully. And as he came to that conclusion, he also realized that he wasn’t exactly sure how to find the lodge again. He had been so caught up in the animals and scenery that he just let Tahmoh lead the way. And now Tahmoh was gone, so what should he do? And why was Tahmoh gone? Did he go to get help? Should he wait for the man to come back? Jared stopped for a moment and swayed in place as he rubbed at his eyes. That snare drum solo in his head had graduated to a bass one. When he opened them again, he had forgotten what he had been thinking about and kept walking.

As he wound his way farther along the lake, Jared started to notice the water sounded a little different. It wasn’t just slapping against the rocks any longer; it was splashing and running, too. He wasn’t sure what that signified exactly. And as he got closer to the new sound, he saw something amazing.

About two hundred feet away, that “something” was large and brown and meandering around. Jared continued to move closer as he struggled to make out what it was. He was having problems seeing, his vision blurring and swimming at times like branches swaying in the wind. When he was about a hundred feet away, Jared recognized the brown blob was a bear. And the bear was lumbering away.

“Hey, Yogi!” he called joyfully. He couldn’t believe that Misha had been right. Yogi was here. The bear swung its head around, and a long, silvery-green fish flopped limply in its jaws. The bear regarded Jared for a moment and then turned away.

Jared was thrilled. He’d found Yogi. If he could get close enough to take a good picture, he was certain that would be worth at least a million points in Sterling’s stupid game and he’d win for sure. So he started to walk in the direction of the bear, all the while marveling at its size. He guessed Yogi must have been at least four hundred pounds, if not more. And as the sun shone down on the bear, Jared could see the tips of its brown hair gleamed like gold. It reminded him of someone else’s hair, but he just couldn’t place it at the moment. He, because Yogi couldn’t be a girl, had a really noticeable hump between his shoulders and Jared felt bad. Nobody ever drew Yogi as a humpback, so maybe nobody else knew about it, he reasoned. Jared was glad Yogi wasn’t running away, because he was having a hard enough time trying to catch up as it was. He didn’t understand why he was so tired when he hadn’t been walking very long.

Trying hard not to trip, Jared reached the spot where he first noticed the bear and could see that the lake was narrowing down and draining into a small river. Yogi must have wandered off in that direction, following the flow of water that would eventually empty into the ocean. And why did that sound familiar, he wondered? Something he must have heard once. That must have been it. It actually sounded like something Jensen would say. Jensen. Jensen _had_ said that. He said that if you got lost, you should follow the streams and rivers to the ocean and wait there. That’s what he was going to do. Because Jensen wanted him to. Jensen would find him.

Confident that he had a sound plan in place, Jared picked his way through the brush as he left the lake and started down the windy path the river cut through the forest. The ground was firm near the water since winter wasn’t that far gone yet, so his footing was fairly secure. The longer Jared marched along the fast-moving river, the more his head started to clear. He wasn’t sure if it was the crisp air or his improved circulation and returning warmth, but he did feel a little better. He also noticed that the rough path he was following was getting more and more overgrown the farther he went. He began to worry that he’d have a struggle ahead of him. And the opposite side of the river didn’t look any better, although it wasn’t much of an option, what with the river being at least thirty feet wide and impossible to cross. Jared had no idea how deep it was and given how fast the water was moving, he couldn’t just wade over there. But as the river curved round a bend, Jared saw a beautiful sight.

There was a crude bridge that spanned the river and Jared could see the beginnings of a proper, maintained trail on the opposite side. And, more importantly, there was a worn, splintered trail marker near the foot of the bridge. That meant Jared was literally on the right track after all. He sighed in relief as he approached the bridge, and the architect in him had to take a minute to examine it.

It was thirty some feet long. The main portion was a single piece of wood, split in half lengthwise. It must have been one of the huge spruces that Jared had seen nearby, because it was at least two feet in diameter. Moving closer, he could see the log had been scored horizontally the entire length, probably to provide some traction. There was an equally crude railing on one side that was no more than the logs of much smaller trees, no wider than Jared’s arm, lashed to the side. About two third of the way across, one of the logs that made up a portion of the top railing was missing. But it otherwise looked sturdy and well maintained. He sighed again.

As he started across, Jared kept a firm grip on the railing to his right, not trusting his balance. When he was nearly halfway there, he realized he hadn’t checked his phone in a while. He might have a chance to get reception where he was, so he pulled it out with his free hand, unwilling to let go of the rail, and attempted to get it to work. Still nothing, not even a hint of functionality, let alone a signal, but he told himself he had to try. Sliding it back in his pocket, he took a few steps forward and then heard a distinctive thunk. Turning around, he saw his phone on the bridge. He must have completely missed his pocket and just let the thing fall. And even though it was probably beyond repair, instinct had him bending over to pick it up anyway. That turned out to be a mistake.

As soon as Jared lowered his head, the dizziness that had troubled him earlier returned with a vengeance, causing him to stagger. As he lurched upright, hoping to counteract the vertigo, his left ankle buckled and twisted. Jared couldn’t compensate and found himself falling through the one open space between the railing posts. With a resounding splash, he hit the water, narrowly missing several large rocks by mere inches. The cold was so severe that his heart seized up. But after a moment that seemed to last forever, it shuddered back to life. Opening his eyes to the burning sting of freezing water, Jared found himself surrounded by a swarm of bubbles dancing in the silty, gray-green darkness. Water filled his ears, deafening him to everything but the labored thudding of his own struggling heart.

He continued to plunge down through several layers of the frigid water. Tossed and buffeted by the current, he felt like a rock in a polisher. He desperately needed to surface, but he couldn’t tell which way was up. And his lungs were starting to burn and push against his ribcage with the buildup of the carbon dioxide that replaced what little useable air Jared had left in his lungs. When his hands dragged against what he thought was the riverbed, he pushed upwards with everything he had in him. The water went from dark green to foam churned with green and finally foamy white before he broke the surface. He let out a harsh gasp and greedily sucked in air. When he began to orient himself, Jared saw the bridge in the distance and turned to see where the water was taking him. He did so just in time to grab a deep breath and dive below the huge, fallen log suddenly in his path before it bashed his skull in.

Once underwater, he was again caught by the strong current and was tumbled and twisted with little control. He tried repeatedly to push up and find the surface, but the water moved him too quickly. Or he was moving too slowly. He wasn’t sure what the difference was or if it really mattered. When he’d surfaced before, he hadn’t had much of a chance to catch his breath and he was in worse shape now. He couldn’t feel his extremities any longer; his blood coursed sluggishly through his veins, the ghostly remnant of the marine mammals’ diving response slowing everything in his body down. The cold stole in from every side, toward his heart. He vaguely recalled a book he once read that described drowning as having a literary quality to it, as though the act of submersion denoted surrender to something greater. With his consciousness waning, he could appreciate the implications of that. His body was submitting to something beyond his control. He could feel his consciousness begin to drift away like autumn leaves on a windy day.

As everything started to narrow in his mind, Jared found a singular thought that offered him comfort – Jensen. And when he remembered the love they shared, it brought him solace and warmed his soul. He might have truly surrendered to the dark then except those memories reminded him of all he stood to lose if he did give in. And a tiny part of Jared’s brain was not ready to let go. With the last of his minute reserves dwindling away, Jared clung to that image of Jensen and kicked and flailed his limbs without even knowing if he was headed in the right direction. He simply knew he had to try.

With unbelievable luck, Jared escaped the hole he had been unknowingly sucked into. Finally released from its upstream pull, he bobbed and started to drift in the gentler flow he now found himself in. With air available in abundance, one of Jared’s immediate threats faded to the background. For a few minutes, he did nothing but inhale and exhale noisily, relieving the unbearable burn and ache in his chest. But as one concern lessened, he became aware of the other. The cold was deadening his entire body.

Jared could only vaguely feel his arms and legs, floating uselessly, moved by the currents like driftwood. His clothes felt like lead, weighing him down even more. He knew if he didn’t get to shore soon, the water was going to be the death of him one way or another. But he was so drained, everything was a struggle. For all he knew, the river might have been shallow enough for him to get his footing, but he was too weak to even conceive of the thought, let alone attempt it. He might have continued to drift aimlessly if not for what came slowly into view.

Jared glimpsed a log resting along the river’s edge about twenty feet ahead, nearly the diameter of the bridge he had fallen off of. But what caught his attention was one of its branches, as big around as his leg, was stretched across part of the water and the current was going to bring him alongside it. He knew this was his one shot and as he floated close, he slapped out with his hand in a desperate bid to reach it. Jared was almost past the thing when he managed to wrap his fingers around part of it. Although his fingers felt more like blocks of wood than flesh and bone, he forced them to hold on tightly. By sheer strength of will, he managed to pull and maneuver his body until he got his arm completely slung around it. From there, although it was infinitely slow going, Jared dragged and pulled himself along the branch until he was able to grasp the log itself.

He clung to it for a minute or two out of absolute relief. What energy his brief burst of adrenalin afforded him seeped away and he barely managed to hoist his exhausted body out of the water and slump across the dead trunk before it fled him entirely.

Jared weakly raised his head. Peering through bangs plastered in wet clumps against his face – his beanie long since ripped from his head – he saw the sun was already winking through the trees. He knew that meant darkness was a few hours away at most and he really should have been making a move to get out of the water completely, figuring some way to maybe get warm. But he was so tired and keeping his eyes open became a battle he had no chance of winning. In less than a minute, Jared surrendered to a different kind of darkness completely.


	12. Back at the Lodge

**Back at the Lodge**

 

Jensen paced back and forth by the hearth in the main building. He’d finally given up the busy work he had been inventing for himself around the resort, growing more restless by the hour, waiting for Jared and Tahmoh to get back from their hike. Jared hiking. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of Jared hiking for any extended length of time. And it wasn’t because Jared wasn’t an athletic guy, because he was. What Jensen had a hard time reconciling with was what he had seen that morning.

While he had been nervously fidgeting on Jared’s porch, waiting for the man to return from his morning jog, he never expected to find him looking like he did. Without the various layers Jared had been bundled up in since his arrival, his body had been in plain view. And that view had shocked Jensen. Gone were the firm muscles and broad shoulders that he knew by touch alone. What remained were thin legs and prominent collarbones. Jensen realized that Jared’s sharp features weren’t merely a reflection of his frustration and anger at Jensen, but from significant weight loss. In the last eight months and eighteen days, Jared had withered and was literally a shadow of his former self. Jensen felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge that he was responsible for it.

And to make matters worse, the first thing he had done after his discovery was to bark at Jared and demand that he put some clothes back on. No matter how hard he tried to school his features, Jared always wore his emotions on his sleeve and Jensen could just as easily read them today as when they had first met. He could tell that Jared thought he had been repulsed by what he’d seen. The truth of the matter was that Jensen was terrified and worried. As usual, those fears came out as anger. It was his default response when scared since he’d lost his folks. Now, more than ever, Jensen knew he had to come clean with Jared and give the man he loved some peace of mind.

As difficult as it was to convince Jared to grant him that opportunity to talk, Jensen was overjoyed that he had it. And while he hated the thought of Tahmoh in Jared’s life, Jensen recognized the man had his uses and the slick way he weaseled Jared out of the boating excursion was well played. There was no denying that; he was just pissed that Tahmoh had managed to opt out of it, too. Rationally, he could admit he was jealous of the guy and the relationship, whatever it might have been, between him and Jared. But the man rubbed Jensen the wrong way. He was too greasy, lied too easily, and smiled too convincingly. Probably why he was Sterling’s marketing guru with qualities like that. He might be Jared’s friend, but that didn’t mean Jensen had to fall all over him.

“Hey, cowboy, you keep that up and you’re going to wear a path in my floor and that’s a boulder you’re marching on, for cryin’ out loud!” Traci’s sarcastic comment brought him out of his troubled thoughts. Once she had heard about the “run-in” between Jensen and Jared, she had become worried and begged off on the trip, telling J.D. that she wasn’t comfortable abandoning Jensen when there were still guests staying behind. And Misha, when he heard her, decided that he couldn’t leave them either and if he stayed, he might actually get to see Jared eat one of his meals and appreciate it in the manner it deserved. Jensen knew she stayed for him and appreciated the sentiment behind the gesture, even as he wished he could be alone.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “They should be back by now.” He stopped his pacing momentarily to pet Crash where he sprawled on the hearth. The pooch couldn’t be bothered to pace with Jensen since he saw that Jensen didn’t seem to actually be going anywhere. Even dogs, Jensen mused, apparently had standards.

“The weather’s nice enough and you know the views are killer. They probably got caught up with their scavenger hunt,” Traci reasoned as she dusted the collections in their display cases. Jensen knew that was her version of busywork so she could keep an eye on him and lend an ear if needed.

“Well, Jared doesn’t look like he should be doing any kind of hiking right now,” he mumbled.

“You know him from…before, don’t you?” she finally asked, putting down her duster and leaning against the counter. Jensen met her steady gaze and nodded slowly. He wasn’t sure what he could reveal to her about anything without talking to Jared first. He owed him that. But she had become a friend and he didn’t like lying to her any more than he did keeping secrets from Jared.

“Traci…” he started, struggling with what he wanted to say, rubbing the back of his neck. But Traci, as sharp as ever, raised her hand in a stopping gesture.

“Nope. Remember what you told me not long after you arrived and I might have asked one too many nosey questions? ‘Ask me no secrets and I’ll tell you no lies’ is what you said. Something tells me that still holds true.” And Jensen smiled in gratitude at her insightful nature. “But I am here if you need me. That’s all you need to know.”

“Thanks, Traci.”

“I know that one day, it’s going to make a heck of a story, though,” she winked at him.

Before Jensen could respond, Tahmoh burst through the main door. He was gasping and shouting, “Jensen? Thank God!”

Jensen rushed over, straining to see around him towards the open door. With no Jared in sight, he grabbed the other man’s shoulders and shook him. “Where’s Jared?” he demanded, not caring about anything else.

Pausing only to catch his breath, Tahmoh bent forward slightly and replied, “He f-fell during the hike.”

“What?” Traci asked as she joined the men by the doorway. Tahmoh whipped his head around at the sound of her voice, obviously startled to see her there, too. He swallowed hard and seemed at a loss for words until Jensen shook him harder.

“What happened to him?” he growled, voice dropping nearly an octave.

Tahmoh swung his head back to Jensen. “We were up by the-the lake and when Jared leaned over the edge of a small overhang, he-he lost his footing. I wasn’t fast enough to catch him.” He dropped his head in shame, but the gesture meant nothing to Jensen.

“You just left him there?” Traci was clearly becoming exasperated with the man.

Tahmoh nodded and Jensen’s grip on his shoulders was becoming vice-like. “I had no choice,” he offered them both. “He-he hurt his leg and couldn’t walk and I couldn’t carry him all the way back by myself. We tried our phones, but neither one got any signal bars. He told me to go find you,” he pleaded with Jensen. “Begged me, actually.”

And those words were like a dash of icy water to Jensen. He loosened his grip on the other man and stepped back slightly. In his mind’s eye, all he could see was Jared, hurt and scared and wanting him. In the next instant, he was a blur of motion, storming off behind the counter into the back office where Traci kept, amongst other things, daypacks and first-aid supplies. Without a second thought, he snagged an orange waistpack hanging from the wall and pulled two of a series of hand-held radios from their charging bases.

Coming back into the main room, he handed the radios to Traci while he made a quick inventory of the waistpack. He knew what the contents should have been since he was the one who kept them stocked, but he wasn’t about to take any chances with Jared’s safety on the line. Satisfied with its condition, he strapped the pack around his waist, adjusting it against the small of his back. He plucked one of the radios out of Traci’s hand, turning it on and switching the station.

“I’ll be on 11,” he told her, using one of the channels they were licensed by the FCC to use. It was a much stronger signal than one for regular civilians.  She nodded and changed hers accordingly before going into her office.

Turning back to Tahmoh, he demanded, “Where _exactly_ did you leave him?” The man hesitated for a moment. Evidently, all it took for the slick weasel to lose his cool was to be faced with an actual emergency. Then, he couldn’t even talk without a stutter. Traci returned with two water bottles in hand and gave them to Jensen. He nodded briefly and situated them in the cargo pouches on the outer sides of his pack. “Where, Tahmoh?”

The command in his voice seemed to snap the man out of his dazed state. “I can show you exactly where he is,” he explained and began to move for the door. But Jensen shot out his hand and stopped the man in his tracks.

“Not a chance,” he hissed. “You are going to tell me where he is and then you are going straight to your cabin. One inexperienced person out there is already one too many.”

“But –” the man started.

“No buts,” Traci reiterated. “Jensen is right on this one.”

“Where?” Jensen ordered.

Seeing he wasn’t going to be allowed to accompany Jensen, Tahmoh deflated. “We were just above Emerald Lake, on a steep drop-off. Jared thought a picture from the edge would be pretty impressive, so…”

Mentally reviewing the layout since he had been by the lake last week, Jensen interrupted, “The drop-off above the remaining ice on the lake or the other side?” There were only two really steep sections surrounding the lake.

“The other side,” Tahmoh answered. “Jared thought the glacier would make an amazing backdrop.”

But Jensen had stopped listening to the man once he heard what he needed to know; his voice was little more than a drone in the background now. Jensen squatted down to retie his boots as he calculated how long it would take him to reach the lake versus how much daylight they had left. While he did that, Tahmoh stepped over to Traci.

“I thought you all left,” he asked her.

“That was the plan,” she told him distractedly, clearly more worried about Jared’s plight. “But J.D. told me that Pamela hadn’t finished my painting yet, so there was no point in me going.” As an afterthought, she added, “Misha decided to stick around, too, since he’d have more mouths to feed than he had originally planned on for his leftovers.”

“So he’s here, too?” Tahmoh seemed surprised.

“Yup,” Traci replied. “Now, do as Jensen suggested and head on back to your cabin.”

“But I still think I should help Jensen with Jared,” he insisted. “If I couldn’t do it alone, I don’t see how he could.”

Standing up, Jensen cast him a cold glare. “Do you know how to make a travois?” As Tahmoh shook his head in the negative, Jensen snapped, “Obviously not, or you would have brought him back yourself. I can handle this.” And with that, he effectively dismissed the other man.

“Trace, it should take me about two hours to reach the lake. If you don’t hear anything from me after two and a half, call in search and rescue.” He made a final gear check for himself before grabbing his jacket off the hook.

“Jensen, it will be getting close to dark by then. You know it will take them a few hours to get here and they won’t start out in the dark; they’ll wait until dawn then,” she reminded him.

“I know. But if he’s not too bad off,” and at this he paused and stared at the other man for confirmation, “I don’t want to tie them up from a real life-or-death situation.” Traci acknowledged his logic.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Tahmoh tried.

“No,” Jensen snapped. “Go back to your cabin and do not leave it until someone gets you. I don’t need Traci worrying about you wandering around, too.”

Properly chastised, Tahmoh bowed his head with a guilty expression.

“Go back and take a shower,” Traci suggested to him, obviously trying to take the sting out of Jensen’s words. “I’ll have Misha whip you up something warm to eat and bring it by myself.”

That seemed to make Tahmoh appreciate that he was becoming more of a problem than a solution, because he replied, “No, ma’am, please don’t go to any trouble because I couldn’t honestly eat a thing right now. Just focus on Jared and please let me know when you find anything out.” And with that, he left for his cabin.

Crash jumped out, happy that someone was going somewhere, but Jensen turned him away. “Not this time, buddy.” And the lab mix sulked his way over to his owner, tail drooping.

Traci studied her friend for a moment, before getting up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “Be careful,” she warned him, “and both of you come back safely.”

“I’m not coming back without him,” he vowed and was gone.

                                                                                                *****

In less than two hours, Jensen crested the hill just before Emerald Lake. He had stripped out of his jacket earlier because of the sweat he had built up during the strenuous pace he’d maintained, but kept the inner vest lining on. He had periodically sipped water from streams and other local sources to keep hydrated, saving the bottled stuff for Jared and any possible wounds that might need cleaning out. Now that the lake was finally in view, however, the panic and worry he’d managed to tamp down during the hike was crashing over him. He couldn’t lose it, he scolded himself, because Jared needed him and he wasn’t about to let him down. Not again.

It was fairly easy to spot where Jared and Tahmoh had bushwhacked their way off the trail to the overhang and Jensen carefully followed their footsteps until he found himself in roughly the position Jared must have been in only a few hours earlier. Holding tight to a small tree with one hand, heart pounding at what he might find, he leaned over but caught no sign of Jared. He decided the only course of action was to pick his way down the slope and keep his eyes peeled for any sign of the man that he could find.

He was more cautious than usual in his decent, but he couldn’t risk hurting himself. What good would he be to Jared if he did that? And as he climbed over rocks and pushed past small pines, he winced at the thought of the damage Jared’s body would have suffered in his fall. When he reached the pebbled shore, his first glance revealed nothing. He debated about calling out to Jared, but weighed that against what animals might become agitated by his shouts. It was a little soon for black bears to start congregating near where the lake bled into the ridiculously inaccurately named Humpy Creek – it was more of a river this time of year – to catch spawning salmon, but he decided to err on the side of caution for the moment.

Not more than a few feet from where he stood, Jensen noticed a group of flies, swarming and buzzing over some rocks and moved closer. When he got right up on them, he dropped to one knee and gave the stones a better look. As he had been dreading, there was a small puddle of blood there, fairly fresh and not overly congealed yet. Probably Jared’s, he reasoned dispassionately. Tahmoh did say he couldn’t walk, but hadn’t mentioned anything about any open wounds. The man could have missed them or Jared might not have started bleeding until after Tahmoh took off. Jensen wouldn’t know the answer until he found Jared. But one thing was abundantly clear – Jared was mobile. All he needed to figure out was which way he might have gone.

Another foot or so from the blood was another puddle, not blood this time but vomitus. Not good. Eyeing the terrain for anything else out of the ordinary, Jensen noticed something white farther west along the shoreline that didn’t look like a patch of snow. Running over to it, Jensen found that it was a balled up piece of paper. Smoothing it out, he recognized the list of animals and plants that he had helped Sterling come up with for his scavenger hunt. Jensen felt it was pretty obvious that Jared had come this way, dropping the paper as he passed by. But Jared wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t careless, either. If he had really meant to leave it behind as a clue, Jensen was sure he wouldn’t have balled it up, but left it open and secured in place with one of the many, many rocks that littered the lakeshore. And he probably would have written a message on it as well. No, he realized as he crumpled the paper in his fist, this was the action of someone who was most likely disoriented.

Jensen took stock of the situation. Jared was mobile, but bleeding. For the entire time he was stationary, he probably got more and more chilled. It hadn’t even reached sixty degrees today, and the wind coming off the glacier behind the lake would have been significantly colder. Hypothermia was a definite issue, which meant at a minimum the potential for dizziness, lack of coordination, and shivering. And considering what his fall must have entailed, concussion was also a real possibility in light of his discovery of the vomit, since that, along with dizziness, headache, fatigue and confusion, were all symptoms of that type of injury. He continued to walk along the shoreline, getting nearer to where it emptied out into the creek and he became more and more certain of what Jared might be trying to do.

He unclipped his radio and called in, “Traci, this is Jensen. Over.” There was a bit of a crackle.

“This is Traci, Jensen. What’s the good word? Over.”

“I’m at Emerald Lake now and Jared is not here. Over.”

“He’s not?” Traci answered, too surprised to end the transmission properly.

“No, but I’ve found signs that he was here. Best guess is he’s more mobile than Tahmoh thought. Over.”

“That’s good, right? Over.” Even with the static, the hopefulness in her voice was obvious.

“I’m hoping. From what I can tell, I think he’s probably making his way down Humpy Creek to reach the beach for a rescue. Over.”

“Copy that,” she replied. “He’s following Humpy Creek to the bay. Over.”

“To be on the safe side, I think you better get on the horn and alert search and rescue. Have them start at the Humpy Creek trailhead and work their way up. I’m going to work my way down. Over.”

“It’s useless for me to tell you to head back before dark, isn’t it?” she said softly.

“You know it. I’ll be fine and I will find him,” he reassured her. “If I find anything else, I’ll let you know. Over and out.”

“Copy that, Jensen. Over and out.”

He reattached the radio to his belt and started off down the creek. He wouldn’t stop until he found Jared. He wasn’t about to lose him again.

                                                                                                *****

Unknown to Jensen or Traci, Tahmoh overheard their entire exchange. When Traci signed off, he slipped away into the growing shadows.

 

 


	13. Down River

**Down River**

 

Jensen worked his way along the river, following what he hoped was Jared’s trail. The ground was too hard for any truly visible footprints, so he wasn’t a hundred percent certain of the direction, relying entirely on his instincts instead. Jensen knew the trails well enough, but he also was painfully aware of the fact that he was not an expert tracker. He might be able to spot the obvious signs of someone having passed before him, like freshly broken branches, litter and damaged shrubs, but there was a good chance he could miss something subtler. What worked in his favor was at this time of year, many of the state parks’ trails hadn’t been completely cleared yet from the previous winter’s damage. Fallen trees were everywhere, a sad reminder of the devastation that the spruce bark beetle had wrought a few years back. There was a very good chance one of those dead Sitka spruces might literally stop Jared in his tracks, or slow him down enough for Jensen to catch up to him in short order. He could only hope at this point.

As the path became more challenging to navigate, Jensen stopped to put his coat back on for protection against Devil’s Club and then spotted Humpy Creek Bridge. It looked like it had held up over the winter fairly well, with only one portion of the railing toppled. Judging by how tangled the brush was west of the bridge along the north side of the creek, Jensen figured Jared would have had no choice but to cross it to reach the trail on the south side. Plus, there was a visible trail marker at the base of the bridge that Jensen bet would have provided Jared with a sense of comfort, not to mention literal direction. He hoisted himself up onto the bridge, chewing his lower lip as he debated once again about calling out to Jared. But he was even more concerned in the heavily wooded areas than back at the lake over angering any of the potential, predatory wildlife nearby. A check to the west confirmed that sunset was still a few hours away, so he needed to make the most of the light and got moving.

When he surveyed the length of the bridge, Jensen noticed how the low-hanging sun glinted off of something on it. He nearly ran as he realized the light had caught on the glass surface of a cell phone. Kneeling carefully, Jensen picked up the obviously damaged device. As soon as his fingers brushed along the back of it, his heart missed a beat. He knew, without a doubt, that it was Jared’s. Flipping it around in his hand, he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry over the sculpted figure of Han Solo frozen in carbonite on the case. Jensen never let an opportunity pass to mock Jared over his uber, Star Wars geekiness. The phone had been a particularly good one to tease him about since Jared had refused to upgrade his iPhone 4 until he was able to find another case exactly like it and not a “cheap knockoff from Amazon that was only a sticker and not an actual, three-dimension sculpt”.

Almost reverent in the way he handled it, Jensen thumbed the home button. When the prompt for the passcode came up, he hesitated for a second before punching in his birthday. Unshed tears stung his eyes when the phone woke up. Jared hadn’t changed it. Pressing his lips in a tight line as he fought back his emotions, Jensen tried to see about getting a signal. After a few, useless attempts, he discovered that the only thing that worked – and worked was an overly generous description, to say the least – on the phone was the photo album. He swiped through the pictures quickly to see if Jared had left any indication of his condition on it via a selfie or any other clue for that matter, but there was nothing beyond some animal and nature shots. He placed the phone securely in a pocket of his jacket and debated about radioing Traci. But what could he tell her that was new? He still hadn’t found Jared yet, only discovered he was on the right track. He decided that wasn’t worth shaking her up over.

He rose to his feet, aware of the missing rail. And that’s when it hit him. The phone was on the only part of the bridge that didn’t have an intact railing. Did that mean that Jared had…Jensen couldn’t even complete the thought. The entire east side of the bridge was open, he reasoned with himself, so just because the phone lay beside the missing railing on the west side was probably simply a coincidence. Jared had more than likely dropped it and either didn’t notice he’d done it or, in his potentially compromised condition, didn’t care. Even still, Jensen found himself scrutinizing downriver more critically than before. He was about to dismiss his fear as being the product of a paranoid imagination, with Jared’s near-legendary clumsiness fuelling it, when he spotted something off. He had to look twice before his brain recognized the white shape snagged on a log a hundred or so feet downriver was not a patch of snow, but Jared’s stupid, white beanie.

Jensen crossed the rest of the bridge in the blink of an eye and began racing along the south side of the river. He crashed through the brush like a bull in a china shop, not caring about anything other than Jared’s knit cap, as branches and twigs tore at him and his clothes. When he was close, though, Jensen stopped short, possessing at least enough presence of mind not to barrel into the water and soak himself, instead grabbing a stick and using it to pull the hat towards him. It took two tries before he hooked it and was able to drag it free. Once in his grasp, he turned the thing over and over in his hands and swallowed with some difficulty when he found a few smears of blood along one edge that the water hadn’t washed away. Squeezing it tightly to his chest, Jensen poured over the area, desperate to find another sign that Jared was near. He tried to convince himself that Jared could have climbed out of the water using the log and was only a little farther ahead of him. But his more rational side shot the hope down in an instant. There was no trace in or around that part of the river to indicate a 6’4” man, who would have been sopping wet, had passed by. Jensen wrung the beanie out carefully and tucked it into the cargo netting of his pack, against one of the water bottle.

Jensen dragged a shaky hand down his mouth and chin. Jared hadn’t gotten out of the water anywhere close to where he was standing. There was certainly the chance that he’d lost his cap while walking and it had ended up in the stream, but there was little wind to speak of and even though it smelled of blood, Jensen didn’t believe an animal had dragged it to the log since there weren’t any tears or teeth marks on it. The only logical conclusion was that Jared had been swept farther downstream in water that wasn’t much above freezing. With one side of his upper lip raised in a snarl, Jensen took off down the river as fast as the brush would allow.

“Jared!” he nearly screamed, no longer caring about anything else as his cries flushed birds from their nests into startled flight. “Jared!”

Using his left arm like a snowplow, Jensen kept his eyes glued to the river on his right, hoping against hope that he’d find Jared around the next bend. He kept that hope alive with each twist and turn of the water. He didn’t know how long his frantic dash had lasted until he heard a splashing different from the rushing water that was his constant companion. The noise was without a doubt footsteps slapping against the water. “I’m coming, Jared! Hold on!” Heart pounding, Jensen tore through the shrubs and undergrowth only to come skidding to a halt. Not more than five feet in front of him was a large, gray wolf.

In its jaws, a mottled green and silver salmon flopped and squirmed. Chum salmon, Jensen reflexively identified. Nowhere near the size of its extinct predecessor – the Kenai Peninsula wolf, wiped out by homesteaders and miners in the early 1900s, which stood almost five feet at the shoulder and seven feet long not including its tail – the specimen in front of him was still fairly impressive. Nearly three feet at the shoulder and four feet long, the wolf had to weigh nearly a hundred pounds. Jensen immediately dropped his eyes, not wanting to appear challenging, and slowed his breathing. He suspected the wolf’s pack wasn’t close by or they would have already descended to share and fight over the kill. That was a point in Jensen’s favor because he didn’t think he’d survive an attack by an entire pack. And as beautiful as it might be, a wolf was no dog, not with a jaw that packed about fifteen hundred pounds of power per square inch and Jensen had no intentions of testing that out. He raised his hands and slowly backed up, never turning his back on it. He wasn’t about to act like prey and run or show fear.

Stealing glances through his lashes, Jensen saw that the wolf seemed to be regarding him. But it hadn’t dropped its fish, so Jensen took that as another good sign that it wasn’t interested in pursuing him. It was slow going since Jensen couldn’t see what was behind him and he didn’t want to inadvertently trip on something and startle the animal, so it took several minutes before he was far enough back to feel safe enough to scope out his surroundings. He climbed about ten feet up a dead Sitka and had a partial view of where the wolf still lingered. He watched with an arm wrapped around the trunk and balanced on a limb as the canid stood its ground, head cocked, obviously listening. Without conscious thought, Jensen’s left hand slipped into his pocket and he dragged his thumb back and forth over the outline of Han Solo’s face. He stroked Jared’s phone like it was a worry stone, torn between wanting to get moving again and staying safe so that he still could search for Jared.

After a few more harrowing minutes, the wolf loped off into the woods at a comfortable trot, heading south. Jensen didn’t waste a second and jumped to the forest floor, anxious to make up the time and ground he’d lost because of the encounter. He didn’t need a watch to know that Jared was running out of time.

He still kept his left arm up as a shield from the snap and slap of branches, eyeing the river closely. When his parents died, Jensen stopped believing in a lot of things and prayer went with those beliefs. But as he moved relentlessly downriver, with no other sign of Jared, he found himself willing to make deals with whoever or whatever divine entity might be out there if only they’d give him his lover back. And when the river took a sharp turn to the left, Jensen found the path had opened up some, thanks to downed trees that had crushed much of the underbrush. Several logs lay parallel to the river and on one of them, Jensen was able to make out a still figure slumped face down along its length.

“Jared,” he cried and sprinted over on rubbery legs.

Collapsing to his knees, Jensen reached out and searched Jared’s neck for a pulse. Touching Jared was startling. His skin was like ice and Jensen struggled to find a beat in the unyielding flesh. He finally leaned over and pressed his cheek against Jared’s nose and mouth, overjoyed to feel the man’s cold breath puff against his face.  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”

He opened his eyes and nodded to himself, triaging Jared’s condition next. His clothes suffered a few rips and tears, but what was more concerning to Jensen was how wet they were. He ran his hands along Jared’s arms and legs, checking for any sign of broken bones and came up empty. Placing his left hand against Jared’s neck for support, Jensen grabbed Jared’s belt with his other and gently rolled him off the log onto the ground. Near Jared’s left temple there was a nasty gash, already bruising, confirming Jensen’s fears of a possible concussion. As he slipped his fingers along the younger man’s torso, Jensen noticed at least one rib on the right didn’t feel quite right. But his breathing wasn’t labored, so Jensen counted that as a win.

“Jared?” When he got no response, Jensen tapped his face gently. “Jared?” And still nothing. It was time to call in the cavalry.

Reaching back for his radio, Jensen’s stomach sank when there was nothing to grab but air. Twisting around, he strained to look behind to see if he’d missed it somehow, hoping it had maybe slipped under his waistpack. No such luck. It was gone. The last time he had actually held it was back at Emerald Lake, so the radio could have come loose anywhere between there and here. That was too much area to try and backtrack. He had no way of contacting help and Jared needed it badly. “Sonofabitch!” he yelled and raked his hands through his hair.

At the sound of his shout, Jared shifted and moaned softly. Jensen cradled his boy’s head with both hands and spoke to him tenderly. “Jared? Can you hear me? Sweetheart?” Jared’s eyelids started to flutter. Encouraged, Jensen pleaded with him, “That’s it, darlin’. That’s it. Look at me.” He watched as Jared struggled to do as Jensen had asked, finally prying his eyes open part ways.

“Hey there,” Jensen smiled at him, brushing the damp hair away from his glassy stare.

“J’ns’n?” he slurred and Jensen could barely contain his joy at being recognized. “Wha’ h’pp’n’d?”

Still stroking Jared’s icy face lightly, Jensen replied calmly, “You went for a little dip.”

“’Kay. Wan’ go home now. C-cold,” he stuttered as a tiny tremor rippled through him. Jensen saw that and carefully pulled Jared up so that he leaned against Jensen’s chest, tucking his wet head under Jensen’s chin. He wrapped his arms gingerly around Jared’s wooden body and rocked him.

“I’ll get you somewhere warm. Don’t worry,” he promised and Jensen focused on the area a little more closely now that he had Jared back in his arms, somewhat aware and talking. Squinting at a few of the trees, Jensen thought something about the area was familiar. When he realized what it was, he shook his head in relief and offered up another, silent thanks to whoever was looking out for them.

Kissing the top of Jared’s head, tasting mountain water and catching a faint whiff of coconut, Jensen asked, “Do you think you could take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” Jared whispered and flopped his arms around, trying to push himself up.

Jensen slipped his left arm under Jared’s shoulders and grabbed his belt again with his right hand. “Let me do all the work, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Jensen got into a squat and slowly started to rise, pulling Jared up as he did. He remembered from his basic aid training that someone suffering from hyperthermia shouldn’t be jostled too much and any stress on their body should be kept to a minimum. As soon as they were upright, Jensen pulled Jared’s right arm across his shoulders and he hooked his left arm around Jared’s slender waist. “I know a place I think you’re gonna like,” he told Jared.

“’Kay,” Jared mumbled, but with the first step he took, his left ankle buckled under him. Only Jensen’s strong grip kept him vertical.

“Okay, let’s try something else instead,” Jensen informed him. “You just keep hanging on, okay?” and he tried to duck his head to catch Jared’s gaze but he wasn’t successful.

“’Kay.”

With that, Jensen raised his left arm up higher around Jared’s torso, fingers splaying against the uninjured ribs, and bent slightly while he hooked his right arm behind Jared’s knees. In one easy motion, Jensen scooped Jared up and cradled him in his arms. The change in position startled the dazed man and he frantically clung to Jensen’s shoulders.

“I won’t drop you,” Jensen promised him gently and hugged him closer. Even with his sopping wet clothes, Jared was frighteningly light. Jared’s head settled against the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“Always trust you,” he murmured and with those words, Jensen had to close his eyes for a few seconds and compose himself.

“’Course you can,” he agreed gruffly and headed off into the woods in a southern direction. The first hundred feet were a bit tricky with exposed roots, fallen trees and bushes that brought visibility of the forest floor down to almost nothing, so Jensen had to be extra cautious with his footing.  And he was constantly checking for signs he was headed in the right direction. Just when he was beginning to doubt himself, he saw an old spruce with a distinctive set of slashes on the trunk and he smiled.

Jostling Jared slightly to get his attention, Jensen tried to point out the tree. “See that?” he asked him. “That marking means we’re almost there, Jay.” He might have nodded his head in agreement, but the man in his arms was silent.

“Jay?” he asked again and got no reply. Holding him tighter, Jensen increased his stride. “It’s okay,” he reassured Jared, “I’ll get you there. You just hang on and save your energy.”

A dozen yards past the marked tree, an extremely narrow path opened up and Jensen moved even faster. “It’s just up ahead now.” And he was right.

The path led to a small clearing and in the center of it was an even smaller log cabin. More than three quarters of the roof was covered with a carpet of moss three to four inches thick and it practically dripped off the eaves like a green curtain. Clumps of grass grew there as well, at least a foot high in some places. A few freestanding logs leaned against the front and a dilapidated barrel collected rainwater from one edge of the roof. But nothing had ever seemed a more welcoming sight to Jensen than that abandoned trapper’s cabin did right then.

“See? I told you you’d like it,” Jensen reminded Jared.

Slowly, Jared’s head tipped back and his arms slid away from their previous hold to dangle awkwardly back behind Jensen’s arm. Looking down, Jensen saw that Jared’s eyes had slipped closed and his lips were so pale they seemed bloodless.

“Jay!”


	14. The Cabin

**The Cabin**

 

Jensen shook Jared in his arms, but he got no reaction so he hugged him closer and scrabbled at the door with one foot. Hooking a toe along the bottom edge, he wedged the door open enough to wiggle his whole foot between it and the frame; it would probably have been easier of he’d used his hands, but he didn’t want to put Jared down a minute sooner than he had to. One hard yank later, the door, swollen from moisture and disuse, grudgingly swung outwards. Although the light streaming in from the doorway was enough to illuminate the cabin, Jensen knew that sunset was only an hour or so away; he’d have to move fast.

He ducked slightly when he entered the small space, wrinkling his nose at the smell of damp wood and rot. Not much had changed from the last time he had been here last fall. The single room was no more than sixteen by sixteen feet. Along the right side, the skeletal frame of a cot that had rotted out long ago was pushed against the wall. A small, wooden stool lay on its side nearby. There was no other furniture, but the back wall had an extra-large log about waist high up that jutted out more than the others and had been shaved flat. A few pieces of crude cookware and some half-burnt candles, most likely left by hikers that needed to take emergency shelter, sat there on the makeshift shelf. Close to the back wall, dead center, was a wood stove. Nothing elaborate about it. It was an old, steel drum with a small, grated door at the bottom and a rusted stove-pipe that was still intact. And it was all that Jensen cared about.

“You wait right here,” he told Jared softly as he lowered the unconscious man down onto the dirt floor. Jensen yanked off his coat, leaving himself the inner vest liner, and wrapped it around Jared as he propped him against the wall and checked his pulse again. It seemed the same, but given how cold Jared’s body was, Jensen wasn’t sure if it had slowed more or not. Aside from his lack of consciousness, the most worrisome thing to Jensen was the absence of any shivering. He knew that was a very bad sign. “I’m gonna fix it,” he swore to Jared as he stroked the man’s slack face once before standing back up. “You stay right there and I’ll be right back.” He didn’t think that Jared could hear him, but on the off chance that he could, Jensen didn’t want him to think he was being abandoned. Again.

He flipped the stool upright and brought it closer to the stove. Unclasping his waistpack, Jensen placed it on the temporary table. He pulled the two bottles of water free and debated about giving Jared something to drink, but that was a non-option and dangerous while he was unconscious. So he set them aside. Rifling through the pack contents, he tried to remember what to do next. Should he simply rely on his own body heat to get Jared warm and worry about getting a fire started later or do that first? He looked at Jared and then back at the stove before slamming his eyes shut. Breathing loudly through his nose, he willed his heart to slow down. Panic was gradually creeping in, intent on robbing him of his reason, and he couldn’t let that happen; panic could get Jared killed, he told himself, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again.

“Jared, it’s going to get dark soon and we’re gonna have to bunk down here until first light at the earliest,” he explained to the insensate man. “I’ve got to get some stuff ready like collecting wood and some bedding for the night and it would be better if I did that while there’s still some light.” He knelt beside Jared and dragged a hand through the man’s wet hair. “If I wait until after dark, I might hurt myself and then where would we be? I mean, I’m not nearly as clumsy as you are, but it could happen,” he joked lamely, freezing when Jared sighed in response.

Cupping the man’s face with both hands, Jensen gently stroked his thumbs under Jared’s eyes. “You got something to say about that?” he asked hopefully. “Because everyone knows you’re a bigger klutz than I am, sweetheart.”

“Not a k-klutz,” Jared whispered without opening his eyes.

“Then what are you?” Jensen prodded, wanting to keep Jared awake and talking.

“Unlucky,” he finally replied and dragged his eyes open. They were as glassy as before, but Jensen read sadness in them, too. Or maybe that was his guilt he saw reflected back at him.

“Yeah, maybe you are,” he conceded, “but I’m gonna fix everything. Promise you.”

“’Kay,” Jared answered him and his eyes started to slide closed. Jensen tapped his face gently.

“Can you try and stay awake for me, Jay? I need to go outside and get some supplies for us, but I’ll be right back, okay? Okay?”

Jared’s eyes stopped at half-mast. He really tried to focus on Jensen. “Do my best,” he promised. “Just…”

Jensen was loath to leave, but he needed to get things set up before nightfall. “Just what?” he prodded. Frigid fingers weakly clasped his hand.

“Just don’t leave me again,” Jared finished.

And if Jensen’s heart hadn’t already shattered months ago, that alone would have obliterated it.

“I promise I won’t leave,” Jensen rasped in a voice gone raw with anguish. When he dared to glance at the younger man, he realized Jared’s eyes had closed again and his fingers had slipped away. “I’ll be right back,” he swore softly as he slowly pressed a kiss against Jared’s uninjured temple.

Ignoring the gunshot crack of his aching knees, Jensen got up and left the cabin. Once outside, he clenched and unclenched his hands for a minute in an effort to get them to stop shaking. Jared’s plea had cut him to the quick. But he had to put everything aside for the moment and fix what he could here and now. Inspecting the glen, he saw that there was a mix of white and Sitka spruce along with a few black spruce farther back. The white spruce seemed to have escaped the spruce beetle attacks and looked far healthier than the Sitka, but they’d both be needed. Jensen approached a younger white, only twenty five feet tall, and opened the pouch on his belt for his pocket chainsaw. Carefully choosing a few of the lowest branches, he got to work.

Within no time at all, Jensen had six good sized branches down and had worked up a little sweat, no longer missing his jacket. The needles, while a little rigid, weren’t sharp to the touch like a Sitka’s were. These would be perfect. And a decimated Sitka provided the other branches he needed. By the time the light had muted to something soft and purple, Jensen had collected all the wood he was going to need to get him and Jared through the short, Alaskan night. Deep shadows stretched across the forest by the time he had carried and dragged his supplies back to the cabin. There was just one last item he needed to collect.

Jensen ducked inside and quickly checked on Jared, barely getting any response at all from the man. He grabbed the waistpack and removed two things. The first was a thirty minute, high-intensity Cyalume glow stick. He tore it from the package, snapped the six inch stick and placed it on top of his pack. The emergency light did a decent job bathing the cabin in a yellowish-green light, although it made Jared look even sicklier than before.

“Just a trick of the light,” Jensen told himself.

The second item was a package no larger than a slim, paperback book. Tearing open the pouch, Jensen tucked its contents into his vest’s pocket. Shooting Jared another glance, he said, “I’ll be right back, okay?” Jared might have mumbled something in response, but Jensen wasn’t sure it wasn’t merely wishful thinking at this point.

Outside again, he shook out the small, emergency blanket and gathered the corners together, forming a rudimentary bag. As he walked back to the stand of dead Sitkas, he stopped every once in a while to grab small piles of fluff that had collected like snow drifts along the ground. Black cottonwoods spread their seeds during the months of May and June and the wind could carry them as far as twenty miles from a parent tree. At the heaviest times, the seed fluff came down like snow and it made excellent tinder. When Jensen had several, large handfuls of the stuff, he ducked under the dead spruces and added armfuls of pine needles to his collection, as well as some dried clumps of grass. Eyeing his bag, he was satisfied with what he had. And his timing couldn’t be better, as the sun completely disappeared from the sky.

He dropped the “bag” carefully next to the stove and gave the stovepipe a good couple of whacks to free up any clogs. The pipe sounded pretty clear and wasn’t rusted out too badly. That only left checking the other end. When he went out, Jensen used the edge of the rain barrel to give himself a leg up onto the roof. He immediately started to crawl to the “chimney”, not daring to walk upright on the structure in case there were any rotted spots. It only took him a few seconds to clear the opening free of moss and other debris. He reached in and gave the pipe another sweep with his hand. Coming away clean, Jensen slid back down off the roof and washed his hands in the rain barrel, wiping them distractedly along his jeans as he re-entered the cabin.

One look at Jared revealed the man was asleep or passed out again and Jensen got to work. The door at the bottom of the stove was rusted tight. Jensen pulled out the Buck hunting knife that had first belonged to his granddaddy years ago and used the tip to create a gap and then the spine of the blade to pry it open the rest of the way. He loosened the clumps of cottonwood fluff and spread them out inside the stove, adding pine needles and the smallest twigs he had broken off the dead spruces until he had created a cone-shaped pile of tinder he was satisfied with. Jensen stacked the dead spruce, which he had already cut into manageable logs, next to the stove. He pulled a tube of Vaseline and a small device about the size of a pocket knife out of his waistpack. Opening up the tube, Jensen judiciously applied a generous amount of the petroleum jelly to key areas of his tinder pile. He capped the tube and stuck it in his back pocket.

Jensen flipped open the other device, swiveling the cap to the back end, revealing a magnesium spark bar no bigger than a piece of chalk. He placed the bar pointing down at the base of his tinder pile, held the catch that had secured the cap in place against the magnesium, and punched his hand down. The spring-loaded bar retracted into the body of the case and as it did so, a small shower of sparks was created where it was in contact with the catch, which was also a carbide striker. When the hot sparks touched the accelerant-covered plant matter, the tinder pile burst into flames. Over the last few months, Jensen had performed the act more times than he could count, but he was never more grateful to hear the snap and pop of the tiny flames as he was now.

“Told you I’d fix things,” he said to Jared, but got no response. Jensen concentrated on the fire as he tried to again control the rising swell of panic he felt at the other man’s continued silence. He diligently fed the small fire increasingly larger twigs, watchful not to overload the flames in his haste before they were ready for heavier pieces.

When he trusted the fire enough to step away from the flames for a few minutes, Jensen got to his feet and collected the candles from the shelf behind the stove. He lit all four of them and scattered them around the cabin to compensate for the fading glowstick. Between them and the orange glow from the slowly growing fire, the cabin was bathed in a warm, ruddy light. Satisfied that he could continue to see what he was doing, Jensen began to drag in the fresh boughs of spruce that he had left whole. He laid them down in a row close to the stove, alternating base and tip, creating a relatively soft bed. Adding the last of the tinder to the growing fire, Jensen snapped his wrists to shake the emergency blanket clean and used it to cover over the nest he’d fashioned, tucking the edges under the branches. He then dragged the remains of the cot closer to the stove.

“Okay, Jared, let’s get you warmed up,” he said in an overly cheery tone.

Jensen knelt beside him and tugged his jacket free, letting it fall to the ground. He reached under Jared’s armpits and lifted the other man to his feet, pulling Jared’s right arm across his shoulders. He stumbled and mostly dragged the younger man the few feet over to the “bed” and lowered him down onto it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized grimly, “because I don’t think I’ve got the right to see you like this, but it’s got to be done.” And with that, Jensen began the difficult task of stripping Jared of all his wet clothing. He unzipped Jared’s jacket and unbuttoned his over shirt. While it was tempting to consider just cutting his t-shirt off, Jensen knew Jared would need as many layers as possible to stay warm later on. He pulled the unconscious man up into a sitting position, trying not to become alarmed by his complete unresponsiveness. Supporting his back with one hand – Jared’s head leaning against his shoulder and neck – Jensen pulled his damp jacket and flannel free and tossed them aside. The clothes landed with a wet slap against the ground some feet away. Jensen grabbed the back hem of Jared’s t-shirt and worked it over his head and off his limp arms. Jensen gently lay him back down and turned his attention to his jeans.

Chucking the t-shirt towards the growing pile of wet clothes, Jensen tried hard to ignore Jared’s thin chest while he untied the man’s hiking boots. He was especially careful taking them off, knowing that Jared’s left foot had given out on him back by the river. As he slipped off the boots and socks, Jensen could feel Jared’s left ankle had some swelling to it. The cold and the boot’s rigid shape had actually worked in his favor, keeping it manageable up until now; he’d need to wrap it before Jared put any weight on it again. “One thing at a time,” Jensen murmured and returned to the task of undressing him.

As Jensen slowly unbuttoned Jared’s fly, he couldn’t help but flash back to the many times he’d done the same thing in the past with his nimble fingers, but under much different circumstances. He tried hard not to dwell on those memories given everything that had happened since and with the secrets that lay between them. Jensen felt almost dirty as he slowly worked both jeans and boxers off of Jared’s skinny hips and legs. He had to remind himself this was a necessity in an emergency situation.

Jensen wasted no time gathering up all of Jared’s wet clothing and stretched them across and over the cot frame that had become an improvised drying rack. He placed one of the bottles of water by the edge of the bed, along with a clean bandana from his waistpack. He dropped the tube of Vaseline down and then began to efficiently rid himself of his clothes, too. Not nearly as wet as Jared’s, Jensen’s gear had gotten damp from contact with the injured man as well as from perspiration, so he laid out his stuff behind Jared’s. Placing a few logs onto the fire, Jensen pulled another, small stuff sack out of the pack.

“Okay, time for bed, Jay,” Jensen explained as he opened up the two-person bivvy shelter and flattened it out next to Jared. He gently rolled him towards the fire, positioned the material and then rolled Jared back onto it. The blanket was a little different from the traditional, emergency blanket he’d covered the boughs with as it was made of a material that would not only reflect some heat back, but wick moisture away from any body wrapped up in it. So Jensen slipped in beside Jared and tucked them in as best he could. He slid one arm under Jared’s shoulders and pulled him close so that the younger man’s back was pressed firmly against his chest. He couldn’t help but suck his breath in sharply as Jared’s skin touched his.

 “Geez, you’re like a block of ice,” he hissed. Jensen didn’t even hesitate, however, and threw his leg across Jared’s frozen ones, trying to cover him with his own body as much as he could. It was hard to resist the urge to rub at Jared’s arms and legs, but Jensen remembered reading that that would cause the blood vessels to dilate and draw blood away from his vital organs and towards the surface, which could be life-threatening. Jensen nosed between the damp strands of hair, along the nape of Jared’s neck, and placed a chaste kiss there. “Please,” he pleaded, “please wake up, sweetheart.” But he got no answer.

After what seemed like hours, Jensen felt a slight tremor under his touch. As he had done with the tinder in the stove, he coaxed more from Jared. Eventually, his entire body was trembling. Jensen tucked the blanket more snugly about them and couldn’t help but smile when Jared moaned and twisted around. Instinctively, he sought out more heat and curled up against Jensen’s broad chest, pulling his arms in close. Jensen wrapped his own tightly about him, resting his chin on top of the younger man’s head, thinking nothing had ever felt so good as Jared’s quivers did to him in that moment.

Just as they had begun, Jared’s shivers gradually slowed over time and faded away. And as his palsy ebbed, Jared’s body began to relax. Jensen studied his face in the ruddy, orange glow. The taut grimness that had been etched there for days whenever he looked at Jensen also seemed to ease as his breathing evened out and grew stronger. He realized Jared was sinking into a deep sleep. His slight body felt heavier to Jensen as he drifted off, although it no longer had the frightening, rag-doll quality of earlier. He shifted a little and propped himself up on one elbow, content to watch him breathe. Jensen brushed a wayward strand of his dark brown hair from his lover’s forehead, frowning as his fingers came away bloody.

As Jared’s body had warmed up, the cut on his left temple had begun to bleed again. Jensen sat up slowly and snagged the bottled water, the fresh bandana and, finally, the tube of Vaseline. Moistening the cloth, Jensen delicately swabbed the wound and watched Jared expectantly, but he never roused. When he felt certain it was clean, Jensen set the cloth aside and placed a small amount of Vaseline on his finger and daubed it over the cut. In a pinch, Vaseline made a decent, protective barrier for small wounds in place of a Band-Aid. When he was finished, his gaze slid lower, lingering on Jared’s cupid-bow mouth. His lips were chapped but no longer pale, flushed a dull pink from the heat. Almost against his will, Jensen dragged his Vaseline-coated finger over them, painting them glossy and moist.

“We’ve got to stop meeting this way, darlin’,” he drawled sadly and felt the memories of six years past sweep over him like an unrelenting tide.


	15. Memories of 2009

**Memories of 2009**

 

_“Well I’ll be damned,” Jensen murmured as he studied the revised design plans. “They fixed it.”_

_As an environmental engineer for the city of Austin, he had been assigned to assess the impact of a construction project that was near a local watershed. It had been on his second pass of the site that he spotted a potential problem where the structure would have had a detrimental effect on the ecosystem. His find, once reported, had brought the work to a complete standstill. Jensen didn’t relish shutting them down, but it was a critical aspect his job to protect and maintain the health of the local environment and he took it very seriously._

_This was the first time he’d had any contact with Yellow Brick Rhodes, a relatively small but up-and-coming design firm. He’d heard nothing but good things about them and was sure the plan’s flaw was not due to negligence, but ignorance. He still didn’t think there would be a way to correct it, however, and expected the site to be shut down and what construction had been completed to be removed entirely. So he was honestly surprised when his supervisor had contacted him to let him know the issue had been addressed and construction had resumed with clearance from Jensen’s office. Jensen was intrigued and when another assignment had him in the neighborhood a few days later, he couldn’t resist taking a look at the work – and design plans – in person._

_Kim, one of the two owners, was on site when he arrived. Jensen was a little hesitant when he approached her, as he’d had more than his fair share of unpleasant run-ins with company heads he’d shut down or who had been forced to pay for costly workarounds, but Kim was not that kind of woman. As soon as she spotted him on the grounds, the brunette waved and smiled warmly._

_“Hey there,” she greeted him, extending a gloved hand. “Come to check up on us again?”_

_Jensen shook her hand, hiding a wince at the firm grip. “No, ma’am,” he replied and tipped his hardhat at her. “I was just in the neighborhood, is all.” When he was nervous or excited, his Texan drawl was more obvious._

_“None of that ‘ma’am’ crap, please, and you’re welcome to look around to your heart’s content.” She smiled up at him. “We are so grateful you caught that snafu before it got away from us.” And Jensen could tell she genuinely meant it. “Bet you’re dying to see how we fixed it,” she added slyly._

_“Well, now that you mention it, I am a little curious,” Jensen admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously._

_“C’mere,” she replied with a jerk of her head and led him to a nearby table set up in the middle of the framework for part of the new building. The revised plans were spread across it and she motioned for Jensen to help himself._

_“I’ve got to get back to it,” she explained and Jensen remembered hearing that she was a master carpenter herself and her partner a master electrician. “But feel free to look your fill and holler if you need something,” she tossed at him as she left._

_Jensen traced his fingers over the blueprints in awe. The solution was so simple and yet so elegant. He shook his head back and forth in amazement because he had honestly thought it couldn’t be done. He searched the plans until he found the name of the architect. A “J. Pada-something”. Squinting at the horrendous chicken scrawl, Jensen could not make heads or tails out of the last name, but he knew he definitely wanted to meet the person. Straightening up, he scanned the busy site. An extremely tall man, made ridiculously taller with the addition of his pink – yes, pink – hardhat, was picking his way over some lumber nearby._

_“Hey, buddy,” Jensen called out._

_The guy, startled by Jensen’s shout, turned in his direction too quickly and whacked his head on a support stud. Jensen could predict what was going to happen next and was in motion immediately. Losing his balance, the other man started to stumble over the pile of two by six beams. Without hesitating, Jensen swooped in and caught him by his biceps before he could fall. He stabilized the young man and eyed him carefully._

_“You okay there, stretch?” he asked. The man (boy?) swung his unsteady gaze towards Jensen and Jensen was mesmerized by it. The man’s eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors, mostly blues and greens, but shifted and changed like the tides. His pink tongue darted out to lick at his lips and Jensen tracked every swipe._

_“I think I need to sit down for a minute,” he finally admitted and Jensen helped him over to a stool by the table where the plans were. Jensen watched as he removed his pink hat and rubbed at his forehead with a wince._

_“You okay?” Jensen asked again, a little worried the guy might have a minor concussion or something. Head injuries were nothing to take lightly._

_“Hmm?” he hummed, not really answering him and Jensen grew more concerned._

_Without even thinking about it, Jensen cupped the man’s chin in one hand and tilted his face up. With the other, he gently brushed the guy’s soft, dark bangs clear and checked his head for anything obvious. But Jensen couldn’t find a thing, not even a bump. A puff of warm air, scented with sawdust and coconut, drifted up._

_“Am I gonna live?” the younger man finally asked with the hint of a grin and Jensen was startled to realize he was still running his fingers through the other man’s silky hair. He dropped his hands abruptly and felt his face start to heat up._

_Cocking his head, the other man remarked, “You sure got a lotta freckles.”_

_“Well, yeah,” Jensen stammered, “they’re only really obvious when I…” but he stopped himself before he said “blush”. He didn’t know why the kid was flustering him so much, because stammering? That didn’t happen. “You’ve got a pink hat,” he countered instead and now it was the other guy’s turn to be embarrassed._

_He twirled the object of derision on a long finger and smiled back at Jensen. “I think Kim and Felicia thought it would be a funny joke, since I’m such a big guy and all, but I kinda like it. Makes me easier to pick out of the crowd, don’t you think?”_

_Letting his gaze wander up and down the seated man’s body, Jensen replied, “Something tells me you stand out just fine.” And Jensen watched as a rosy color spread across the kid’s face and neck. He found himself idly wondering if that flush bled down to his chest as well. And he had to nip those thoughts in the bud before he started picturing the guy spread out on his sheets, under him, flushed and…_

_“So,” Jensen cleared his throat abruptly, “maybe you could help me with something?”_

_“Sure,” he answered and made as if to stand up, but Jensen grasped him by the shoulders and encouraged him to keep sitting. “No need to get up. Give yourself a minute, okay?” Maybe it was because Jensen had seen him hurt himself that he felt so protective over the boy, but there was no denying that protective was definitely the way he felt about him._

_“’Kay,” the kid answered quietly._

_Smiling, Jensen continued, “I’m trying to find someone but I’ll be damned if I can make out their name.” And he pointed to the scrawled signature of the project architect. When the other man saw whose name he was indicating, he ducked down in his seat, and Jensen swore he seemed suddenly bashful. And Jensen had absolutely no idea why he found that incredibly endearing._

_“Jared Padalecki,” the kid finally said in a soft voice and then lifted his face. “That’s me.”_

_“Pada-lecki?” Jensen repeated, only slightly tripping over the pronunciation._

_“Yup, I’m a mouthful,” the kid – Jared – agreed._

_“I’ll bet you are,” Jensen mumbled, without realizing he’d spoken aloud._

_“What?” Jared asked, sounding surprised. Jensen caught himself in the nick of time._

_“I said,” he responded, “’of course your name is’. You’re the guy I was looking for.” With that, Jensen thrust out his hand. “I’m Jensen Ackles.”_

_“You’re the Jackal?” Jared asked even as he shook Jensen’s hand._

_Jensen quirked an eyebrow at him. “The Jackal?”_

_Reluctantly releasing Jensen’s hand, Jared blushed harder. “Uhm, well, yeah. You sign all your reports ‘J. Ackles’, so…Jackal.” And he shrugged his shoulders as if that explained everything, offering up an expression that would put a puppy dog to shame._

_Jensen crossed his arms and sucked in his cheeks, desperately trying to control a laugh that was bubbling up inside of him and hoping to come off as intimidating instead. He was enjoying this kid all too much._

_“You’ve got a reputation,” Jared finally admitted. “Everyone says you’re really fierce about your work, you know? That it’s not all talk with you…you really care about the environment. So, it just fit to me. The Jackal…kinda like a superhero.” And Jensen was really grateful Jared decided to look away after that revelation, because he couldn’t control the smile that spread across his face. It probably made him look very un-jackal like. And, apparently, he had a reputation to maintain._

_“Well,” he said, trying to sound gruff, “I did want to meet you. I was looking these over,” he motioned to the plans, “and I was extremely impressed with your work.” Jensen didn’t think the kid could get any redder, but he was wrong. Jared was blushing so hard, he looked downright feverish._

_“Really?” he finally said, peering up at Jensen through his thick bangs and Jensen had to fight the urge to brush those chestnut strands out of Jared’s eyes._

_“Really,” he agreed firmly. “To be honest, I didn’t think it could be fixed.”_

_Jared rose to stand beside Jensen, overlooking the plans. He smiled as the older man placed a steadying grip on his elbow. “When Kim showed me the report, I couldn’t believe I’d missed that issue you spotted. God, I felt like an idiot.”_

_Jensen could tell the young architect was sincerely upset. “Don’t sweat it, kid. I almost didn’t notice it,” he told him and it was true; he had almost missed it._

_Jared seemed to accept Jensen at his word and didn’t accuse him of trying to coddle him over it. “Man, I can’t tell you how much sleep I lost over you,” he added._

_A slow smirk spread across Jensen’s face. Jared really had no idea how suggestive he sounded. “Really?” he drawled. “Tell me all about these sleepless nights ‘cause of me.”_

_Jared turned, wide-eyed as he realized what he had said. “Dude,” he sputtered. And Jensen put him out of his misery._

_“I’m just messin’ with ya, kid,” he laughed and saw the tension ease from Jared’s shoulders._

_“Jerk,” he muttered and punched Jensen in the shoulder._

_Rubbing the spot, Jensen smiled and said, “Now tell me how you came up with this.”_

_For the next fifteen minutes, Jensen listened avidly as Jared explained the concepts he had worked out to address the challenges Jensen’s report had revealed. Jensen was as equally enthralled with the way Jared’s mind worked as he was of the way the architect’s long, almost elegant, fingers skated along his drawing. It was slightly mesmerizing the way they moved._

_“And so,” Jared finished, “here we are, back in business.”_

_“Here we are,” Jensen agreed a bit dazedly._

_Uncertainly, the architect offered Jensen his hand again. “I’m really glad we finally got to meet, Jackal,” he joked with a hint of nervousness._

_“So am I,” Jensen agreed and held onto Jared’s hand a beat longer than necessary. “With talent like yours, I’m sure I’m going to be seeing you around a lot more in the future.”_

_Jared pulled his hand back slowly. “You think?” he asked._

_“You can count on it,” Jensen promised him and then something wonderful happened. Jensen watched as twin dimples carved deep lines into Jared’s cheeks._

_“Well then,” Jared nodded timidly, “until then, Jensen.” He slapped his hat back on and made as if to tip it, before spinning to walk away. Jensen pretended not to hear the dull thud of the hat hitting another stud or Jared’s softly murmured profanity. After all, the kid had tried so hard for a suave exit that it would have been a shame to ruin it for him._

_“Until then,” Jensen breathed out and started to plan out how he might “bump” into a certain young architect in the very near future._

“I couldn’t wait to see you again,” Jensen whispered to Jared. “You might have been the one to almost fall, but I was the one who was knocked off his feet.”

And he trailed his right hand up and down Jared’s bare torso. Jensen knew the landscape of the other man’s body better than any mapmaker, and what he felt beneath his fingertips brought tears to his eyes. The land he loved so much lay wasted and barren and it killed Jensen to know he was the cause of it all. “I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured in the shell of Jared’s ear, before placing a kiss there. “So, so sorry.”

“Whatcha sorry for, J’n?” Jared slurred.

“You awake again, Jared?” he asked hopefully.

“Mm hmm,” he agreed quietly and dragged his hand up and down Jensen’s side. “What happened to your pants?”

“They’re drying by the stove,” Jensen told him.

“’Kay. Did we go golfing again?” It took Jensen a moment to follow Jared’s train of thought, but when he remembered their second date, he gave a watery chuckle.

“No, sweetheart, no moat. This time you fell in,” and he couldn’t resist kissing Jared on his forehead again.

That seemed to rouse Jared more fully awake. He tried to prop himself up, but Jensen kept him gently restrained, afraid to let him overexert himself so soon. For the longest time, Jared stared at him and Jensen couldn’t see his eyes clearly enough in the low light to know what was going on behind them.

“Jared?” he finally asked, afraid that the moment had arrived where his lover would demand to know everything. And Jensen would tell him because he could no longer deny him that truth. But what Jared asked next was nothing like he expected.

“Is this a dream?” he whispered.

“No, Jay, you’re not dreaming,” Jensen assured him. No sooner had those words left Jensen’s mouth than he had his arms full of Jared. But it was a Jared shivering and shaking with sobs. And while Jensen had seen him cry before, it was nothing like this. Not even the ending of _Old Yeller_ had elicited a reaction as strong as the one Jensen was witnessing now.

Great wracking sobs shook his thin shoulders as he clung tightly to Jensen. Tears so hot they felt scalding – and how could Jared have tears so hot when he had been so cold? – burned Jensen’s neck and shoulder. He tried to calm him down. He whispered soothing nonsense, made impossible promises, but nothing could stem the flow of tears now that they had started. Jensen was honestly growing concerned that Jared was going to make himself pass out with all the emotional upheaval he was suffering through.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Please tell me,” he pleaded with the inconsolable man. Jared only rubbed his head back and forth against Jensen’s neck, but didn’t utter a word.

“C’mon, darlin’, please talk to me,” Jensen begged. “Please, Jay.” And he rubbed his hands insistently up and down Jared’s back, trying to ignore how he could feel every single knob along the other man’s spine.

After what felt like forever, but was probably only another minute or two, Jared managed to pry his head back from Jensen’s body to look at him with a face wrecked by tear tracks. “I…” he sighed brokenly, but any other words he wanted to offer seemed to clog in his throat.

“What, sweetheart? ‘I…’ what?” Jensen prompted him gently.

“I-I had a dream,” he said so quietly Jensen nearly missed it.

“What kind of dream?” Jensen asked him slowly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“I dreamt you’d abandoned me,” Jared whispered into Jensen’s neck, back to hiding his face against the other man’s body. Jensen wrapped his arms more tightly around him, trying to show Jared without words, that he was safe.

“I came home and e-everything that was yours,” he stuttered, “everything that was _you_ was just gone, like you’d never existed.” And Jensen felt a fresh wave of the other man’s tears cascade down his chest like acid, burning a furrow into his body. He almost wished Jared would stop talking, but hearing the words was a penance Jensen had to pay. “And I l-looked everywhere for you, but you were nowhere to be found. And I tried, Jensen,” Jared keened, “I tried so hard to find you, but I couldn’t.

“And the worst part,” he continued in a voice gone ragged, “was that I didn’t know what I had done to make you go. I didn’t know what to do to fix it so you’d come back. I didn’t know why you’d stopped loving me.” As his words died out, Jared slowly raised his face to stare at Jensen and even through the tears, Jensen could see joy filter back into Jared’s eyes. “But you’re really here,” he breathed in an awed tone. And he raised a shaking hand to brush against Jensen’s cheek, the caress so tentative as though Jensen might vanish like dream residue.

At his touch, Jensen’s eyes slipped shut, feeling red-hot pokers stab at the backs of them. His own tears were so close. But he leaned into Jared’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I’m here,” he croaked. “I’m here, darlin’. And I never stopped loving you.”

“You’re here,” Jared agreed and closed his swollen eyes. “I love you so much.”

Jensen held onto him and rocked them both slowly, humming “Hey Jude” under his breath. Jared sighed and burrowed in closer, his tears eventually tapering off. And, about five minutes later, Jensen was certain Jared had drifted off into exhausted slumber again after wearing himself out. It was devastating to hear how badly Jared had missed him. And Jensen was fairly certain Jared would never have shared any of those feelings if he hadn’t been physically compromised. He knew Jared was laid bare in more ways than one before him.

Jensen glanced at the fire and slowly extricated himself from Jared’s embrace. The cabin had warmed up nicely, but he still shivered, missing the feeling of Jared’s body pressed up against him. He squatted near the stove and added another, few logs. The fire was going strong and would burn well into morning at its current rate. He stared into the dancing flames, comforted by the familiar pop and hiss of the wood so much so that he missed the crinkle of the blankets behind him. When he finally turned back to the makeshift bed, Jared was facing him. His multi-colored eyes, wide open and wary, were clearer than they had been since Jensen found him. Jensen’s heart began to speed up.

“Is this a dream?” Jared asked again and Jensen felt sick to his stomach.

“No, Jared, you’re not dreaming,” he replied.

“Then I think we need to talk.”


	16. What Happened

**What Happened**

 

Jared’s first sensation was heat. He was bathed in it and a small sigh escaped his lips. He hated being cold and it seemed that of late, a constant chill clung to him like a long-lost friend. But now, he was warm and more. Although his thoughts were hazy and muddled, he felt protected somehow and safe. Slowly, he opened his eyes, almost reluctant to leave the haven that sleep provided him.

Jared brushed his knuckles across his gummy eyes. They were itchy and swollen and a little achy. But his head hurt worse and was drumming “to beat the band”, as his father liked to say even though Jared wasn’t a hundred percent certain what the phrase meant. What did beating a band have to do with anything anyway? He licked his lips, trying to rid his mouth of the dry cotton it was apparently stuffed with. Rolling onto his left side, Jared noticed he was surrounded by a clean, sharp scent of pine that made his thoughts drift to Jensen. And like he’d dreamed him up, there he was.

Kneeling beside some kind of stove, Jensen was completely nude. Jared watched, spellbound, as the dim, warm light slipped up and down the muscles that moved beneath his skin. His hair dirty gold in the half-light and even though he couldn’t see them well, Jared knew his body was dusted in freckles. “Angel kisses,” he had called them, much to the older man’s chagrin. He was covered in a slight film of sweat and it gave him an ethereal glow. Like Pygmalion’s Galatea come to life, he was simply physical perfection. And Jared was breathless before the scene in front of him. Even though he was afraid of breaking the spell, he had to know.

“Is this a dream?” His voice was little more than a harsh whisper, but loud enough to be heard.

Clearly startled, Jensen twisted around and there was something feral in the movement. He stared long and hard at Jared and, because he eclipsed the radiance behind him, Jared couldn’t see into his eyes or into his heart like he desperately wanted to.

“No, Jared, you’re not dreaming.” The words were the only confirmation Jared needed to hear. Nothing else mattered in the moment. Even if the encounter turned out to be a dream in the end, Jared was going to get answers. When Dream-Jensen visited, he never gave them to him, only looked at him sadly before fading away.

“Then I think we need to talk,” he told Jensen.

The older man didn’t say a word, but nodded his head in acknowledgement. Raising himself up, Jensen padded over to what appeared to be a pack of some kind. Jared tried hard not to focus on how he moved, but failed spectacularly. With the shadows capering along the log walls, there was something primitive about it all – almost atavistic.

“How’s your head?” Jensen asked with his back to Jared.

And, for a moment, Jared had forgotten about the thrumming inside his skull, but Jensen’s words brought the pain rushing forward. “Kind of hurts,” he rasped. “Don’t suppose you have any aspirin on you?”

Jensen turned his head around and gave Jared a slightly wry look, as if to say “Do you see any pockets on me?” Jared let his eyes skim the expanse of Jensen’s muscular torso, buttocks and legs before he dropped his eyes and cringed at the heat that flooded his face. How could the man still do that to him after everything?

“Got something else,” he answered, finally ending Jared’s inner turmoil. Jensen rattled a small container while scooping up the water bottle Jared had been furtively eyeing. With surprising grace, he dropped to his knees before Jared and offered him the items. Jared struggled momentarily to sit up before Jensen leaned in to help.

“Have some of the water first,” he said gently and handed Jared the bottle after he uncapped it.

Jared gifted him with a small smile and started to drink. His eyes slipped closed at the first taste and he practically upended the bottle, anxious to quench his excruciating thirst. But before he could swallow much more, he felt the bottle tipped back. Opening his eyes, he watched as Jensen pulled it from his unresisting fingers.

“Not too much at once, or you might get sick again,” he explained and Jared thought he looked guilty for stopping him. Placing the bottle down, Jensen opened up the container and shook out a couple of pills for him.

“Tylenol, huh?” Jared asked as he accepted the medication.

“Yup.” Jensen handed the water back to Jared to wash them down. “You took a hit to the head,” he explained with a nod to Jared’s temple, “and aspirin could cause a bleed in your brain.”

“Oh,” Jared replied after another swallow. He was unaware of Jensen taking the bottle away as he slid a hand up the side of his head and winced when he came into contact with his forehead. Jensen’s hand shot out and snaked around his wrist, pulling Jared’s fingers away.

“Don’t touch,” he ordered Jared sternly. Jared’s eyes widened and Jensen had the sense to look sheepish. “Please,” he added, letting him go. Jared shivered, but he wasn’t certain it was because of a chill or the loss of contact. Touch had always been electric between them, right from the start. Jensen gave him a worried glance.

“Cold?” And even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t, Jared bobbed his head up and down. Jensen sucked in his cheeks and nodded abruptly, coming to some sort of a decision. He reached for the blanket and looked at Jared. “May I?”

Jared knew what Jensen was asking, and a part of him wanted to scream and yell “no” because, no, he did not want Jensen near him, not when the man was naked and looked like _that_. But, even with his murky recollections, he realized that they were in a cabin, it was dark and cold, and Jensen was naked. And considering Jared wasn’t even the one who had provided the shelter, he literally didn’t have a leg to stand on. He couldn’t deny him the only covers available. Still unable to speak, he just nodded jerkily.

Jensen raised the blanket and deftly slipped in behind Jared, quickly rearranging everything in his wake. And even though he was warm, that brief puff of air that snuck in when Jensen pulled back the covers was enough to make him shiver. Jensen immediately tucked up against his back and slung his arm over his waist. Jared wasn’t able to stifle a hiss at the skin-on-skin contact and he felt Jensen grow rigid in response.

“It’s to keep you warm,” he ground out. “Nothing more.” And damn it all, didn’t that statement have Jared’s swollen eyes watering. Again.

“I get that,” he spat back and every muscle in his body started to lock up. Despite the pills, his head still throbbed and lying on his hurt side wasn’t helping any. But he would be damned before he would roll over and face Jensen. The silence stretched out between them, the winking candlelight an odd and cheerful counterpoint to it. It was Jensen, finally, who broke the quiet.

“No, you really don’t get it,” the older man murmured and Jared had had enough.

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?” he demanded. “Right here, right now.” His heart was pounding, but he wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear driving it so wild.

Jensen drew his arm back until only his hand was resting on Jared’s hip. He squeezed once and kept it there. “All right.” And Jared found himself swallowing painfully.

“Do you remember,” Jensen began, “that day eight months ago?”

“Eight months and eighteen days,” Jared supplied.

“Nineteen now. It’s after midnight,” Jensen corrected him gently. And Jared didn’t know whether to be elated or sad that Jensen had obviously kept as close a track as Jared had of their time apart.

“Oh…” For the longest time, the only sound in the cabin was the intermittent snap of pine logs from the stove. “Yes, I remember,” Jared finally whispered. Of course he remembered. It was burned into his heart.

Jensen inhaled sharply. “One of my projects was checking the waste management system for that new pharmaceutical plant that was under construction. That was the one that was giving me so many headaches, remember?”

And Jared did. On more than one occasion, Jensen had come home, frustrated by the company and the runaround they kept giving him. When he’d requested a re-inspection of the waste management system that was supposed to be in place, he’d received one excuse after another postponing it. And he was sure something was up. “You thought they were dodging you and might be trying to grease some hands to weasel out of the inspection,” Jared said quietly, not trusting himself to say more. Dread started to pool in his belly. The plant. The plant site where the body was found.

Jensen hummed in agreement. “I took a peek at their construction schedule and realized there was a block of time when no one was supposed to be on site that day and it was the perfect window of opportunity for me to get in and out with none the wiser. Well, as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who thought the place was going to be deserted.”

“What?” Jared asked in a small voice and he tried to turn around, forgetting his earlier stance, suddenly needing to look into Jensen’s eyes. But the other man’s hand on his hip kept him pinned.

“Don’t, please. It’ll be easier to tell you this way,” Jensen breathed. “Please.” Jared nodded once again.

“It was just before dawn when I got there,” Jensen picked up the story and Jared remembered waking up alone that morning, hand searching blindly across cold, empty sheets, not realizing that was going to be the status quo for him from that day forward. “And I was so pleased with myself to have finally had free rein over the place that I dove right into my work. I never heard any cars pull up. I was frantically making notes and taking pictures with my phone, because there were still some major violations in play, and didn’t notice anyone else on the premises. I was up on a catwalk when all of a sudden I heard some men arguing. I kind of ducked down behind some construction material, because I didn’t want any trouble and hoped to slip out before anyone spotted me. I definitely had enough evidence to get the company shut down for the foreseeable future.

“But, when I poked my head back out, I…” Jensen drew in a deep breath before continuing and Jared couldn’t help but place his hand over the older man’s and squeeze encouragingly. Something terrible had happened. Jared was certain of that. Several seconds passed before Jensen squeezed back, but he did return the gesture. “I saw three men holding another man down on his knees and before I could even make a sound, a fourth cut his throat.” Jared gasped and Jensen held him tightly about the waist.

“I didn’t even realize it, but as I had turned, I was still holding my finger down on the button and my phone was snapping off photos of it all.” He paused again and sucked in a ragged breath. “And they didn’t stop at his throat, Jared, even though he was obviously done for. They did so much…worse to him. And all of a sudden, they dropped the man to the ground and bolted. I honestly don’t know what would have happened next if those men hadn’t run off. I-I don’t think I could have stopped them.” The slight stutter at the end wrung Jared’s heart dry. He tried once more to turn around, needing to do something, but Jensen yanked him even closer and rested his forehead against the back of Jared’s head, as though he was trying to disappear into Jared’s skin. “Please let me finish,” he husked. Jared clasped his hand harder and stayed still. Eventually, Jensen relaxed his hold.

“I don’t know how I managed to get down to the ground level, but I did. I guess maybe I was in shock a little, because it took me a minute or so to realize I had a phone in my hand. But as soon as I did, you can bet your ass I started to dial 911. I don’t think I even got to the first 1 before FBI agents were swarming the place.” And Jared felt Jensen tremble. “They had automatic weapons drawn and everyone was shouting and the next thing I knew I was face down on the concrete, watching that man’s blood seep towards me.”

“Oh, my God.” Jared didn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t know how long it took,” the older man said, “because I kind of lost track of things for a while, but eventually I was taken to an office in the plant that the Feds had turned into a temporary command post. The man who was killed had been an undercover agent and he’d been wearing a wire. They went through my photographs and questioned me in depth. It was probably at least an hour before the lead agent informed me that I wasn’t even a suspect.

“Apparently, the undercover agent had been found out, his wire smashed, and he’d been dragged to the plant to be murdered. But the FBI was close behind when they discovered their surveillance equipment had been destroyed. That’s why they got there before I had a chance to call anyone. And it’s also why they knew I wasn’t involved. It was just a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time,” he finished sadly.

“Jensen,” Jared murmured, slowly stroking the man’s hand. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors he’d seen, what Jensen had been a witness to. And then it dawned on him. “You were a witness.” He felt Jensen’s head moving up and down against the back of his again.

“They corralled me right away. Of course, I wanted to help and see those men punished. I told them I’d do everything I could.” Jared never had any doubts what Jensen would do in a situation like that, so he wasn’t surprised. “The organization those men belonged to was very powerful and I was the first, living witness they had.” Jared flinched at the word “living”. “They weren’t about to take any chances with me.”

“So, they put you into protective custody?” Jared wondered, relying on Hollywood movies for the phrasing.

“Before I even had a chance to blink after saying 'yes', they loaded me up into an armored SUV and shuttled me back to our place. They gave me less than an hour to grab everything I wanted before they cleared out the rest of my stuff,” he admitted softly.

Jared curled his head down until his chin touched his chest. “If only I’d gotten home sooner, I could have seen you,” he whimpered. “I’ve replayed that day in my mind over and over and I only missed you by such a little bit.” Jensen must have heard his tears, because his grip tightened back up.

“No, you couldn’t have, Jared. They’d made sure of it,” he replied dejectedly.

“That problem with the zoning,” Jared said with a sick sense of understanding. “That was them, wasn’t it?” Jensen squeezed his hand in return.

“I didn’t know at the time, but later on I found out they had orchestrated something to keep you away. No matter what you would have done, they would have found a way to keep us apart.”

“You know, that was part of the reason I eventually left Kim and Felicia’s,” Jared laughed miserably. “I needed something to blame…something to hate. And I couldn’t let go of the idea that if I hadn’t been tied up at the office with that project, I could have seen you…talked to you and you never would have left.” Jared was finding the truth a bitter pill to swallow.

“Oh, Jay.” Jensen sounded lost.

“So, they put you into witness protection?” Jared prodded, not wanting to linger on the poor decisions he had made over the last eight months.

“Yeah,” Jensen croaked. “My handler hustled me up here to Traci’s lodge so fast, my head was spinning. Apparently, she and Agent Beaver go back a long ways. Traci still doesn’t know why I’m here, just that I’m keeping a low profile. They wanted to do everything in their power to make sure no one even suspected I was connected with the case. The Bureau figured this was so out of my wheelhouse, no one would look for me here. And they kept me almost as much in the dark as they did everyone else. I understand they even killed all the local coverage of the murder.” Jensen swallowed hard.

“So, what happens now? Are you waiting to go to trial?” Jared knew court cases could go on for months and if this organization was important enough to have the FBI after it, the case could probably go on for years. And what would that mean for Jensen or for them? Was there even a “them” any longer?

“There is no trial, Jared.”

“I don’t understand,” he faltered.

“The Feds brought down a few, key players,” Jensen tried to explain. “At first, no one was going to crack until they dangled me in front of them. Or, the idea of me. An actual witness with photos, no less, to the murder of a federal agent in the state of Texas who was more than willing to testify. The death penalty was enough to get the wheels turning and deals started flying. One by one, they caved in and started pointing fingers at each other. If this had gone to trial, I don’t know how long it would have taken. But I do know by law the Feds would have had to name me as their witness then, since everyone’s entitled to face their accuser. The way it went down, none of them even knew who I was.” Jared’s head was spinning over everything.

“So what are you still doing here?” he needed to know.

Jensen took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “There was one person that no one would name – the person at the very top. Even the ones that the Feds could threaten with lethal injection refused to talk. That’s how much power and fear this boss wields.”

“So? One got away. Too bad for the case, but how does that affect you?” Jared demanded. The fear and anguish he felt over Jensen’s ordeal, what he had been a witness to, was shifting slowly to frustration and anger as he struggled to grasp the details.

“A few months ago, as the plea deals were wrapping up, Jim Beaver came to visit and he told me there had been a data breach at the Bureau. Several files had been hacked, including the encrypted ones with my information.” Jared didn’t need Jensen to spell out what that signified. It could only mean that whoever the major player was, they had Jensen’s name after all. “And, as an added bonus, he told me that once the final deals had been signed and executed, my stay with WitSec was over. They were cutting me loose.”

“I-I don’t get it. How does that even work?”

“Since my part in everything was officially over, they no longer had an obligation to provide security for me.” Jensen quickly added, “I know Jim felt horrible about the situation, so he finagled something with Traci so I could stay here indefinitely.”

All Jared could hear was “indefinitely”. Jensen was going to stay…indefinitely. “Why wouldn’t you come home?” he rasped.

“Have you been listening to me?” Jensen asked incredulously.  “Someone that scum are so afraid of and are willing to die to protect knows who I am! You think I’d come back and risk you?”

Jared was livid. He twisted and squirmed in Jensen’s arms until he was finally facing the other man. “What does it matter now? If whoever it is knows who you are, then they must know about me, too.”

Jensen shook Jared by his shoulders. “It matters because there’s at least a chance they think I bailed on you, left and don’t care about you anymore. If you don’t mean anything more to me then maybe you don’t mean anything to them. I’m stuck between a rock and a fuckin’ hard place, Jared!”

Jared froze at the words. He thought that when Jensen admitted the FBI had been keeping him in the dark as much as everyone else that it meant Jensen hadn’t known the truth; hadn’t known how he had no idea where Jensen was. He thought that Jensen had no idea how he was falling apart. But he knew, after all.

Jared pounded his fists against the older man’s solid chest. “You knew,” he snapped. “You knew how lost I was, how confused I was. And you didn’t do a damn thing about it. How could you? How could you do that to me? You knew where I was every single day and I had no idea about anything!”

Jensen caught his fists and wrangled them both into an upright position, still clutching Jared’s hands. “That’s right. I knew,” he confirmed harshly. “Every single fuckin’ day, I got to drag my sorry ass out of bed, knowing how much you were hurting. Knowing that you were lost and that it was all _my_ fault. Every single day, I have had to live with that. And for what?” he laughed brokenly, loosening his hold on the younger man. “For trying to do the right thing, that’s what. I was breaking your heart and mine all for the sake of doing the right thing and it still might not be enough in the end.” Dropping Jared’s wrists, he lowered his head, but not before Jared caught sight of a tear winding its way down his cheek.

And then it hit the younger man. For all the pain and anguish he’d been through, Jensen had been right there with him, step by step, even if Jared couldn’t see it then. While Jared had been suffering, alone and in the dark over things, Jensen had been trying to protect him as best he could while dealing with the horrors he’d seen and living in fear of what could still go wrong all for the sake of doing right. There was no one to blame. They were both victims in this moment and Jared was finally tired of being one.

He reached over and placed his hand on Jensen’s cheek, brushing against the stubble and nudging the other man’s face back up. In the soft glow of the candles, Jensen’s eyes, bright with unshed tears, gleamed like emeralds. And after months of unanswered questions and tormenting nightmares, Jared found all he needed to know in those fathomless, green depths. He tilted his head and leaned in to press his lips to Jensen’s.

The kiss was soft, tentative and gentle, so much like the first one they had shared six years ago. And like that kiss, this one was full of promise and hope. When they broke apart, Jared moved his thumb to rub the pad along Jensen’s plump, lower lip. “I love you,” he whispered, daring to take the risk and admit how he still felt. When he looked Jensen in the eyes again, he saw him shake his head minutely and, for a moment, Jared was scared he’d made a mistake as he watched a hurt expression wash over the other man. But before he could say or do anything else, Jensen grabbed his shoulders and yanked Jared hard against his chest.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart,” he rasped gruffly before plundering the younger man’s mouth in a devastating response. “So fuckin’ much.”


	17. Finding Their Way Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets the full NC-17 rating!

**Finding Their Way Back**

 

Their second kiss was nothing like the first. When he jerked Jared close, he ravaged the younger man’s mouth completely. Their teeth clacked, their noses squashed and their jaws bumped awkwardly. It was rough and claiming and a little wrong until it was suddenly so very right. Jensen wasn’t sure who tilted their head just so, but somebody did and he slid his tongue into the slippery sweetness that was Jared’s mouth. He twined and tangled his tongue with Jared’s, slipping over it to map the roof of the other man’s mouth, licking into the ridges with fervor. When that wasn’t enough, he coaxed Jared’s tongue out with his and sucked hard on the limber muscle. Jensen kissed him like he’d never get the chance to again, kissed him until black spots were dancing at the edges of his vision and he had to let them both come up for air.

Panting, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Jared’s lips, flushed and kiss-swollen. He licked his own, chasing after the taste of their kiss and glanced up to see that Jared tracked every movement with laser precision. Jensen smirked at him, the left corner of his mouth curling up wickedly.  And Jared, apparently not wanting to stop, surged forward to nip along his lips, snagging the lower one between sharp teeth and tugged it back. He finally let it go with a juicy pop, and Jensen stared down into his stormy eyes; eyes that were growing darker with his rising desire. Jensen snaked an arm around Jared’s torso and claimed his mouth again. This time, there was no reciprocal discovery; Jensen plunged his tongue repeatedly inside, wanting to remind Jared of what they had – what they were.  With his other hand, he grabbed at the younger man’s drying locks, clumped into unruly curls at his nape, and yanked back hard.

Jared groaned but denied him nothing, baring his long, elegant neck like an offering. And Jensen gladly accepted. Tearing his lips away from Jared’s mouth, Jensen dragged his teeth along his boy’s jaw, tasting salty sweat and the hint of stubble. It was a running joke – and a sore spot for Jared – that it took forever for the younger man to grow anything resembling facial hair, while Jensen, though fairer, was always scruffy by nightfall. As he mouthed his way towards Jared’s ear, Jensen released the hold he had on the man’s hair and braced his hand on the bed instead, slowly lowering them down. The Mylar-like crackle of the emergency blanket was a dull annoyance in the background as Jensen settled himself half on top of Jared and sucked a lobe into his mouth. Jared gasped and squirmed as Jensen sucked harder on the tender flesh, before releasing it to exhale hotly against the delicate shell of his ear. A shiver ran the course of Jared’s long, long body and he wrapped his arms around Jensen’s broad shoulders fiercely. But the moment he did, he hissed in obvious discomfort.

And like a bucket of river water had sluiced over him, Jensen pulled back, worry and concern hanging heavy in the air. He carefully disentangled himself from Jared and pushed himself back into a sitting position, never taking his eyes off of him. The younger man frowned and tried to tug Jensen back down.

“Jen, what…” he started, stopping abruptly as Jensen placed a soothing hand on his chest.

Jensen rubbed slow circles over his heart. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” And he couldn’t help but smile as Jared’s eyes fluttered shut briefly. Jared never admitted it out loud, but Jensen knew he loved the endearments, his body always betraying him over it. “I don’t think we should do this.” Before Jensen could say anything further, he watched in amazement as Jared’s face shuttered closed and his arms curved back towards his body. Like a flower dying on the vine, Jared kept curling inward and away from Jensen.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jensen chided. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jensen eased himself down and laid a comforting hand on Jared’s bony shoulder while he propped himself up on his elbow. But Jared shook his head and stayed resolutely turned away. If Jensen didn’t know better, he’d swear Jared was trying to hide himself from him. “Please?” he asked.

Jared peered back over his shoulder, but couldn’t quite meet Jensen’s gaze. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’t want to be with me, either.”

“What?” Jensen was shocked and tugged insistently but gently at Jared’s shoulders until his boy rolled back towards him. “What are you talking about?” When Jared continued to stare down, arms still curled defensively against his chest, Jensen caressed his jaw and tried to lift his face back up. “What?”

Eventually, Jared gave in to the insistent pressure of his touch and met Jensen’s eyes. He shrugged and mumbled his answer. “I get it. I don’t look the same anymore and you…”

“I…what?” Jensen couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While he couldn’t argue that Jared looked tired and worn thin, he was still the same man that Jensen had fallen in love with. Nothing would ever change that. He was beautiful.

Jared nodded weakly towards Jensen’s chest. “You look like that,” he whispered, dropping his gaze. Jensen looked down at himself and frowned, before he realized what Jared had meant. He had to swallow a bitter laugh, before folding Jared back against him. He resisted for only a second or two before practically melting against Jensen’s body. Jensen steadily stroked Jared’s back, composing himself.

Leaning his head far enough to catch Jared’s eyes, Jensen said, “This is all anger management, Jay.” For the second time in as many minutes, he had to bite back a laugh, but this time it was a happy one. Jared had scrunched up his nose at the words and he looked a lot like a cross-eyed bulldog in the half-light as he tried to focus on Jensen’s too close face.

“Anger management?” he wondered, clearly confused.

“Yup,” Jensen sighed, his mood growing darker. “I was here for about a month, before I found out just what you did and didn’t know about my situation. I’d been pestering Beaver about you when he finally came clean and told me that you didn’t have a clue what was going on.” Jared sucked in a deep breath at the revelation.

“So you thought I knew?” he asked in a small voice and Jensen hated the uncertainty he heard there. He hugged the young man closer, tucking Jared’s head under his chin.

“I not only thought you knew, I thought you might have been moved, too.”

“Really?” came the muffled response.

Jensen hummed his agreement into Jared’s hair, breathing in the coconut smell that still lingered there even after his insane journey downriver. “One of the first things I asked about was what would happen to you and Jim made assurances that you would be completely safe. Maybe because everything was happening so fast or maybe because I was just fuckin’ naïve, but I took that to mean you had some kind of protective detail or had been relocated like I was.

“It was only after a month or so when he couldn’t dodge my demands to talk to you or at least get a message to you any longer that he finally fessed up.” Jensen dragged in a harsh breath, caught up in the memories of that time. It took a few seconds for him to realize that Jared had unclenched his arms and wound them around his waist. He closed his eyes and smiled, returning the hug.

“So he acknowledged that not only did you not have any protective detail, you had no idea what had happened. I asked him what the hell that meant and he explained that the FBI had quashed everything about the agent’s murder. Other than a small news story that leaked out before they could gag them, the FBI claimed jurisdiction over the crime scene, forced out the local P.D. and locked everything down,” he finished.

Jared drew in a long breath. “That’s why the police never questioned me.” Jensen gave him a puzzled look. “I did see something about the murder,” he started and then corrected himself. “Well, Alex caught word of it in the news and told me about it. I could never hunt down any details myself. And because it happened at a site you were attached to, I always wondered why they never came around asking about you. It seemed like I was truly the only one who wanted to know where you were.”

Jensen squeezed him hard, hating to revisit that dark time. “When I asked Jim for more about you, he eventually admitted that they had cleaned out all my stuff from our place after they hustled me out, cancelled my phone and had made sure you didn’t get back home until every trace of me was gone,” he explained. “I swear I almost punched him when he told me the truth, but he insisted that you would be safer if it looked like I had walked away. He said that if by some horrible accident my name got leaked, you were so obviously devastated by my desertion, it would be crystal clear to anyone that you had no idea where I was.” The last part of his confession was little more than a raspy whisper. It killed Jensen to think how hurt Jared had been, especially when he had the physical evidence of those long months cradled in his arms.

“I was so torn up, Jay, and there was nowhere for me to go and nothing that I could do that wouldn’t jeopardize the case the Feds were building. I was trapped here. Traci didn’t know what was going on, only that I was hurting, so she pointed me towards the wood she’d bought for the lodge and handed me an ax. By the time I had the third cord split and stacked, I started to see Jim’s logic even if I didn’t want to. First and foremost, I wanted you safe. But it killed me, darlin’.” Before he could say anything else, Jared stopped him with a kiss.

“I believe you,” he said when they finally broke apart. “It was just a shock when I first saw you here. You looked…” he paused to trail his long fingers down Jensen’s chest and then skip across his biceps. Jensen couldn’t contain the shiver those innocent touches wrung out of him. “You looked so good, Jen. And I look like this,” he finished quietly, “so I understand.”

Jensen sunk a hand into Jared’s soft hair and gave it a sharp tug, forcing the younger man’s head back up. “You don’t know shit, sweetheart. I stopped because I got carried away and you’re hurting. I’m not about to add to it. Not now and not ever,” he promised solemnly. “I’m never gonna hurt you when the choice’s mine.” The last sentence was more of a growl than anything else.

Jared met his gaze and was silent for the longest time. He finally seemed to find what he was looking for in Jensen’s green eyes. When he did speak, his quiet words shocked Jensen. “You’re hurting me right now.” Jensen tried to scramble away, uncertain what was wrong, afraid that he was crushing the young man or pushing up against an injury. But Jared wouldn’t let him go, surprising him with his wiry strength. “I’m gonna die if you don’t finish what you started,” he husked, the sound shooting straight down to Jensen’s groin.

“Jay,” he tried to argue, already knowing he wasn’t going to win the battle, “you’re hurt, sweetheart. Your head…”

“My head is okay,” he replied and licked up Jensen’s neck. Jensen shuddered.

“You’re cold,” he tried again, groaning when Jared sucked on his Adam’s apple like his life depended on it.

“Do I feel cold to you now?” And Jared guided one of Jensen’s hands down to his growing erection. Jensen took the hard flesh in a loose grip and couldn’t deny the heat he found there.

“No,” he whispered in reply. “You feel pretty damn near perfect.” He dragged his hand up and down, alternating between squeezing and rubbing the hard flesh, making it grow even harder, slicker with the dry friction. When Jared’s hips jerked suddenly, Jensen felt like he was on top of the world.

“Never could say ‘no’ to you,” he mumbled as he dropped a series of fluttering kisses along Jared’s neck, lingering in the sweet hollow between shoulder and collarbone. Jared trembled in his grip, hands scrabbling for purchase in Jensen’s short, blond hair. Jensen nearly yelped when Jared finally settled on his ears and forced Jensen’s lips back up to his.

“Please,” Jared breathed into his mouth, locking eyes with him. Jensen could only nod. He let go of Jared’s hot flesh and blindly fumbled for the tube of Vaseline he’d discarded earlier. When his fingers wrapped around the plastic tube, he crowed in success. But something was missing.

He moved his head to the side to break their kiss and Jared chased his lips. “Jay, I don’t have any condoms.” He hated to mention it, hated to think that Jared might have been with someone else in the time they were apart. But it had been nearly nine months and that douchebag, Tahmoh, sure seemed to be sniffing after him. And, in his darkest moments, Jensen had wished that there _had_ been someone to ease the younger man’s pain, since he couldn’t. But it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. The moment stretched between them until Jared lowered his eyes sadly. And Jensen swallowed hard, hating the truth that was about to be revealed, even though he understood.

“We never needed them before,” Jared whispered. It took a second for Jensen to understand the implications of his words and even longer before he realized that Jared had the same fears.

“And we don’t need them now,” Jensen replied easily, happy to put Jared’s mind at ease right alongside his own. “Never gonna need ‘em.” Twin dimples appeared before him along with a smile that could rival the sun – a smile just for him that warmed Jensen to the depths of his soul.

Tossing the Vaseline lower, Jensen swooped down and drew his teeth along the tendons of Jared’s neck. Jared’s head fell back against their bed, eyes slamming shut against the pleasure/pain that Jensen knew he was feeling. He slapped his hands feebly against Jensen’s shoulders, finally settling a vise-like grip on his biceps. Jensen couldn’t help himself as he practically devoured his boy’s Adam’s apple. Turnabout was fair play, after all. And Jensen wasn’t above playing dirty, either.

He slunk down Jared’s body bit by bit, dragging his face against the firm flesh of the other man’s chest. As he rubbed his cheek up and down one pec, Jared threw his head back with a whimper, his back bowing off the cushion of pine. The crushed needles filled Jensen’s nose with their pungent, spicy green while he wondered at Jared’s sudden movement. He grinned wickedly and caught Jared’s wrists when he figured out that it was his stubble across a tender nipple that had sparked Jared’s loss of control.

“I know what you need,” he husked and forced Jared’s hands above his head. As he did so, the other man took advantage of his position and eagerly sucked one of Jensen’s nipples into his mouth. Jensen froze in place as Jared laved at it until the flesh pebbled from the loving attention. “Uhn,” he moaned, wrenching his head from side to side, lost in the sensation. Finally regaining a modicum of control, Jensen arched out of his reach, the slurp of Jared’s mouth against his body lost to the crack of the fire. In the molten glow, Jared’s body glistened with sweat and Jensen’s cock grew harder at the sight of the young man trapped beneath him.

Pinning Jared’s wrists above his head, Jensen leaned down and brushed his chest against Jared’s, lazy and slow like a cat. “Leave ‘em there,” he ordered with a brisk shake of his own hands in warning. Jared rolled his lower lip in and bit at it with his sharp, even teeth. Apparently unable to speak, his head jerked up and down once. Although he left his hands where they were, he couldn’t stop the rest of his body from reacting when Jensen returned to lavish attention on his nipple. He twisted and squirmed under Jensen and the motion went straight to Jensen’s groin. The ache was exquisite.

Scrubbing his scruffy face back and forth against the neglected nipple, Jensen was mesmerized by the way Jared clenched and unclenched his fists. He knew his boy was slowly going insane with need. “Look at you.” He paused, breathless. “I should leave you like this – wanting, burning, needing. I _could_ leave you like this,” he teased and laughed throatily when Jared raised a lust-heavy head to shoot him an epic bitchface. When the younger man started to rise, Jensen tsked. “Ah, ah, ah,” he warned playfully and Jared’s head fell back on a groan.

Satisfied Jared was going to obey, he mouthed over the nipple before biting at the delicate, little nub. Jared hissed and rolled his head from side to side. “So sensitive, aren’t you, darlin’? And it’s all just for me,” Jensen purred.

“Yes,” Jared choked out. “All for you. All yours.” He sounded wrecked already.

Jensen clutched at Jared’s torso, slithering lower and lower. His fingers tripped and dipped over the peaks and valleys of Jared’s ribcage, a somber reminder of the young man’s neglect. He must have paused too long, because Jared raised his head and his expression wasn’t lustful so much as it was sad. Jensen snapped out of the guilt that had clawed its fingers into him and put those feelings away for the time being. He kissed and licked at the tender skin around Jared’s navel, dipping his tongue in and out of his bellybutton until he heard Jared sigh in satisfaction.

Tracing his thumbs back and forth in the obvious grooves of Jared’s abs, he stole a glance at the man he loved. "'Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies',” Jensen quoted, the words from the Song of Solomon suddenly so appropriate. "'Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.’” When he saw Jared’s eyes swim with unshed tears and his lower lip tremble, Jensen offered him a slow smile.

Rubbing strong fingers along the sharp juts of Jared’s hipbones, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the other man’s cock. Flushed a deep red, it slapped against his abs with every quiver that Jensen wrung out of him. Sticky tracks of pre-come smeared along his skin with the motion and Jensen had to frantically grab at his own cock and squeeze hard to stop from coming at the view before him. He pressed his forehead against Jared’s hip, needing that single point of contact to collect himself. He could feel the need to be inside of Jared tingling through his body like heat lightning on a summer’s night. Another snap of the fire brought Jensen back to the moment and he grabbed the tube of Vaseline.

He squeezed out a hefty dollop of the stuff – not ideal but better than spit alone – and smeared it on his fingers as he climbed over Jared’s right leg. He was conscious of the left, careful not to jostle his hurt ankle as he pushed Jared’s thighs apart, realizing belatedly that he should have wrapped the injury by now.

“Jen,” the other man croaked, tugging him from his thoughts. “What – ?” But before he could finish the sentence, Jensen lifted Jared’s cock up and rubbed his dry, callused thumb around the head in a firm, sensuous motion. Jared’s hips stuttered in response and he moaned deep and long at the touch. While he was distracted, Jensen ducked his head down and mouthed at Jared’s sac. The skin was velvety smooth and the smell of Jared down there was dark and warm and known. He sucked first one and then the other ball into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each one gently. Jared shifted his legs restlessly under the onslaught.

“Jen, Jen, Jen.” He didn’t know if Jared was even aware that he was chanting his name like a mantra. He took advantage of the moment and let his slicked up fingers trail behind Jared’s balls, stroking his perineum while seeking out the most intimate part of the other man. He continued to work Jared’s cock with his left hand; it was practically drooling pre-come and the fluid eased his way as he slipped his sure fist up and down the rigid shaft. Like velvet covered iron, it was hot and hard and felt so very good in his grip.

His lubed finger brushed against the furled muscle nestled between Jared’s ass cheeks. He circled the fold of skin gently, alternating between rubbing and tapping the pad of his finger along it, teasing but not breeching the muscle. He chanced a glance at Jared and watched him writhe wantonly against the blanket-covered pines, his hands clawing at the dirt beyond their bed. Jensen was finding it harder and harder to focus. Need and want raced up and down his spine and his toes were practically tingling with bone deep desire. He didn’t want to rush anything after so much time apart, but he realized if he didn’t move things along, he was going to come long before he ever got inside Jared.

Leaning back down, he took one look at Jared’s cock before he sucked the mushroomed head into his mouth. At the same time, he worked a single finger into the tight heat of Jared’s ass. He wasn’t sure who groaned first, but Jensen knew they were both losing it fast. He pulled off Jared’s cock and quickly gave the base of it a squeeze while he slid his finger back and forth inside him. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of brushing his finger against Jared’s supple walls. The other man was impossibly tight and Jensen knew the want pooling in his belly and snaking up his spine wouldn’t be denied.

Releasing Jared’s cock, Jensen fumbled for the Vaseline and squirted another glob into his hand and dove back in. He swallowed Jared down as far as he could as he squeezed two fingers into the man’s hole. Jared shot up screaming, “Jen!” Jensen relaxed his mouth and let Jared’s cock slip free, feeling it drag against his teeth on the way out. Released, it slapped angrily against the ragged man. He continued to work his fingers back and forth, though, opening and closing them in a frantic fashion to stretch the muscles, just the right side of painful.

“Back down,” he growled at Jared. Jared simply stared at him, uncomprehending and glassy eyed, before he sank into the bed. He threw one arm across his eyes in abject surrender. Possessiveness flooded Jensen’s mind with a primal need to reclaim what he’d lost; what rightfully belonged to him. He mouthed down Jared’s temporarily abandoned cock and slipped a third finger inside. It was still ridiculously snug within Jared and Jensen knew of only one way to get Jared loose enough so he could take him without pain. He bent his fingers, fondling the inner walls of Jared’s channel until he found the spongy cluster of nerves he’d been searching for. While he rubbed the bundle relentlessly, he stabbed the point of his tongue into Jared’s slit and the other man was done.

Jared screamed, the only warning he was capable of giving, and then he came in endless bursts. Jensen swallowed and licked up every bit he could, the salty sweet flavor almost bringing him to tears. He never thought he would have this again, and he took in Jared’s taste like it was a communion. And when Jared’s cock had softened enough that Jensen knew any further touch would be painful, he released it. Jared, hair plastered in sweaty strands against his forehead, weakly raised his head and Jensen surged forward, blanketing him with his body and kissed him hard. The other man opened his mouth easily and Jensen shared his taste with him. Jared only moaned and opened his mouth wider at that.

When Jensen finally lifted his head up, he licked at the mole to the left of Jared’s nose before inching his way to his ear. “Love you,” he breathed, his voice gone gravel rough and Jared shivered uncontrollably. As Jensen licked and nipped at the shell of his ear, he tasted salty moisture that he knew wasn’t sweat. Afraid that he might have hurt him, Jensen pulled back. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Jared only shook his head and Jensen watched as two more tears slipped free. He bracketed Jared’s head with his forearms and didn’t give him a place to hide. “Please tell me.”

“I didn’t know,” the other man finally answered when he found his voice. “I didn’t know how empty I was until I was suddenly full again. You. How I’ve missed you. All the hollow spots are gone,” he croaked, skittering his fingers up and down Jensen’s chest.

Jensen’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head. “Sweetheart,” he began, overwhelmed by Jared’s declaration. Jared's fingers walked their way up to Jensen’s face and then cradled his jaw.

“I need you inside me,” he begged Jensen, slanted, hazel eyes like liquid gold in the firelight. He’d never appeared more exotic to Jensen than he did in that moment of time.

“Yes,” Jensen rasped. “God, yes.”

He kissed Jared almost brutally once more and then sat abruptly back on his haunches, settling easily between Jared’s spread thighs. Jared’s eyes fluttered closed, long lashes like moth’s wings against his high cheekbones, arms resting loosely by his sides. He was pliant and the picture of absolute submission before Jensen. And Jensen’s cock thickened impossibly harder.

Scrabbling for the tube of jelly, he slathered his cock from root to tip, hissing at the insufficient contact of his own hand on his overheated flesh. He bent over and hooked his arms under Jared’s thighs. With one sure motion, he heaved the man closer so that his hips rested against Jensen’s thighs. He let go only long enough to line his cock up with Jared’s hole. With one arm still holding Jared’s hips in place, Jensen guided himself inside. He took it slow, although Jared was well-stretched and fucked out, as sweat dripped down his back from the strain. 

Jared keened in pleasure, thrashing his head back and forth. “More,” he groaned. “God, please, more.” At a loss for words, Jensen simply rolled his hips forward, easily bottoming out in that one movement. It was like slipping on a favorite pair of jeans, comforting and familiar like a second skin. His head fell back as his balls slapped against Jared’s ass. Jensen’s grip tightened on the tops of Jared’s thighs as he fought for control, gulping in air like a drowning man. When he felt he had it back, Jensen started to lift up, thigh muscles flexing and bunching, thrusting into Jared’s tight, wet heat. He vaguely thought that he couldn’t have done it if Jared had been at his former weight, but he threw those thoughts aside. Later, he’d worry and fret. Later.

Jared’s body lurched forward and back with every shove. He was nearly boneless until Jensen’s cock brushed up against his prostate. As Jensen continued to hit that sweet spot on every third thrust or so, Jared’s cock began to fatten again. He rolled up his shoulders, hands reaching out for Jensen, mewling helplessly, abs clenching and quivering. His face was scrunched up in painful desire. When Jensen pressed against his prostate for the fourth time, Jared gasped and arched up from the bed, his head and hips the only parts of his body still in contact with the ground.

He was a beautiful, writhing, sweaty mess and he was suddenly too far away. Grunting, Jensen let go of Jared’s thighs and put his arms around Jared’s waist. In a single, swift move, Jensen sat back on his heels, hauling Jared up with him. The angle changed with the new position and Jensen was certain he could reach the back of Jared’s throat now, he was so deep. Their chests brushed up against each other, Jared’s once again erect cock trapped between them.

Keeping one armed wrapped around Jared’s waist, Jensen supported Jared’s injured left leg with the other. Jared locked his arms behind Jensen’s neck, his eyes never leaving Jensen’s. He tried his best to meet each and every one of Jensen’s thrusts. Their position made it nearly impossible for Jensen to get a hand on Jared’s cock, but, as if he sensed what Jensen was thinking, Jared whispered, “Just like this.” Jensen nodded and increased his pace, chasing his orgasm feverishly. Slipping and sliding between their sweat-slicked torsos, Jared’s cock throbbed mercilessly.

Jensen pushed his left arm farther up Jared’s body, clutching the back of the other man’s neck. He stared into Jared’s eyes as they shared the same breath. Jensen was overwhelmed with the love he saw in those kaleidoscope eyes and growled, “Mine” to the other man. Jared’s hands clamped down on Jensen’s shoulders as he hissed, “Yes. Only yours.” And then he was coming again, hot splashes reaching as high as his neck. At the same time, Jensen felt Jared’s inner walls spasming around his cock, squeezing him for all he was worth and that pushed him over the edge he’d been teetering on. Pleasure ripped up his backbone and he pumped a few more times before he was releasing inside of Jared for what seemed like forever, branding the man from the inside.

He opened his eyes when he felt Jared’s arms fall away. The younger man’s head lolled back and Jensen found himself supporting dead weight. Hips still rolling uncontrollably in short bursts, he lowered them both carefully down to the bed. Wiping sweaty hair out of the way, Jensen whispered, “Jay?” The other man’s only response was a faint hum, before his head rolled to the side. But the little, sleepy smile on his face reassured Jensen that Jared’s second orgasm had just been too much for him and he’d grayed out. Jensen rested his forehead against Jared’s right temple and breathed “I love you” into his ear, easing himself slowly out of Jared’s body. When Jared winced slightly and mumbled, Jensen shushed him with a kiss.

Jensen took a couple of deep breaths, willing his racing heart to slow down. A little regretfully, he extricated himself from Jared and walked over on wobbly legs to the stove. He added two more logs to keep the fire going for another couple of hours, even though they were both covered with sweat; he knew they’d cool down soon enough. He moved back over to the bed and found his bandana. Wetting it with what was left of the first water bottle, he used the soft and well-worn material to clean Jared of the sweat and come on his body. His movements were slow and careful, each swipe of the cloth a tender declaration of love. When he’d gotten most of it off, Jensen gave himself a perfunctory cleaning as well before slipping back in beside Jared. He rolled the pliant man into his arms, sandwiching his hurt ankle in the protective cage of Jensen’s legs.

Jared snuggled against his chest, sighing as he slipped deeper into sleep. Jensen placed a soft kiss against his forehead. He hugged Jared closer and decided some rest was definitely in order. “Love you,” he exhaled as he drifted off, feeling Jared smile into his skin.


	18. June 10th

**June 10 th**

 

_“Man, you’ve got to see the view from here,” Tahmoh said. “The angle’s perfect.”_

_Leaning off an overhang, hand with a death grip on the rough, gray trunk of a pine._

_Holding out his iPhone and trying to get the lake and the glacier in one shot._

_Turning around to ask Tahmoh if they should return to the lodge._

_Something hard hitting him in the back._

_Twisting and starting to fall down, a push against his side helping his decent._

_Pain searing through his ankle and leg._

_A sharp blow to one side of his ribs and suddenly he can’t take a decent breath._

_Another hit, this time to the head, and everything starts to fade away._

_Tahmoh standing calmly, watching from above, before walking away._

Jared gasped and jolted awake. His breathing was loud and ragged even in his own ears. He twisted around, thrashing against arms that held him securely. His heart jackrabbit fast, it was like he’d run a marathon. And with each twist, something crinkled loudly, adding to his confusion.

“Hey, easy now,” a voice breathed gently. “Easy.”

Even before the actual words registered, Jared started to calm, the sound of that voice a balm to his pain and sleep-terror. He slowly lay back on his right side. As his breathing reached something close to normal, Jared became aware of whose arms held him and offered him unspoken protection and safety.

“Jensen,” he sighed, pressing his shaking fingers against the older man’s chest, unconsciously searching out a heartbeat to ground him, something to remind him what was real. One of Jensen’s arms slid up his spine and cradled his skull while another dipped to the small of his back, nudging him closer.

“You back with me?” the other man asked, scratching his fingers along Jared’s scalp. Jared leaned into the motion helplessly, letting it soothe him more.

“Mm hmm,” he hummed. He flattened his hands against Jensen’s broad chest, testing the solid muscles beneath his fingertips. Jensen had never been this large before, and Jared was finding the hard strength incredibly arousing. Before those thoughts got more explicit, Jensen chuckled.

“Bad dream?” he asked and Jared felt him flex his pecs slightly. Apparently, Jensen was enjoying the attention, too.

“Something like that,” Jared mumbled. But what was it exactly? The more he dwelt on it, the more Jared felt like he was chasing the memories of a dream and not the dream of a memory. It made his head hurt and he rubbed absently at his bruised temple.

“Enough of that,” Jensen chided. He snagged Jared’s wrist and moved it away. When Jared tried to push up, Jensen helped him until they were both sitting upright. Without a word, Jensen leaned across him to grab something and Jared reveled in the contact, warm skin against warm skin. It was gone too quickly and he found a full bottle of water thrust unceremoniously into his hand. He removed the cap and took a long drink before he returned it to Jensen. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Jared saw that Jensen merely capped the bottle and set it back on the ground.

“I’m good,” Jensen assured him, rubbing a hand up and down Jared’s arm while he spoke. “How are you feeling?”

Jared took a moment to figure out up from down. He straightened his spine and winced, although that melted into a smile soon enough. “Sore,” he admitted, “in a good way.” In the strange light, it was hard to tell, but he was sure the tops of Jensen’s ears were turning red. As he extended his leg, he twitched in pain. “And in a bad way,” he amended.

“Let’s see about that,” Jensen said. He hopped to his feet and walked over to a little stool.

While he rummaged around in a small pack, Jared gave his surroundings a closer look. The whole place was filled with dull, gray light and he figured it must have been close to dawn. More clearheaded than he was a few hours ago, he became conscious of the fact that he was in a tiny cabin. On his immediate right, some kind of blanket tarp thing was propped up, running the length of the bed, kind of making a shield on that side. Off to his left, a steel barrel crackled and snapped, emitting enough heat that he understood why he didn’t feel cold, even though he was obviously naked and clean. Jared blushed. The thought of Jensen wiping him off after everything while he had been more asleep than awake seemed almost more intimate than the acts themselves. Sneaking a look, he was more than grateful that Jensen seemed comfortable being nude in front of him. All that skin was a glorious sight to behold. Tearing his eyes away with some difficulty, he spotted his clothes laid out on some kind of frame along the opposite side of the makeshift stove. And other than what he was stretched out on, Jared didn’t see anything but a couple of gutted candles and a rusty pail.

Jensen returned with a packet in hand and knelt down next to Jared’s feet. The blanket crinkled and Jared saw that it was shiny and stiff, kind of like Mylar. He pushed down on it, surprised by the soft give. Jensen must have seen something of his amazement. “Pine boughs. Didn’t want you losing any heat through conduction,” he explained. “Moved the bivvy while you were sleeping,” he nodded to the blanket that was on Jared’s right. “It got almost too hot under it and hanging that way it trapped heat from the fire and reflected it back on us.” Jared smiled at how damn smart his lover was.

“Watching too much Bear Grylls again?” he joked.

“Be glad I do. Saved your frozen ass,” Jensen teased back, but then grew quiet. Jared saw his shoulders tense.

“You did save me, Jensen. In so many ways,” he reassured him softly, leaning forward to touch Jensen’s hand. The older man caught it mid-reach and brushed his thumb across the back of Jared’s hand.

“All right. Let’s take a look at this,” he finally said and released Jared’s hand reluctantly.

Jared leaned back on his elbows, still slightly self-conscious about the condition of his body, but he knew if he was going to try and walk out of there, he’d need some help. Jensen carefully lifted up his leg by the calf and studied first one side and then the other of his ankle. The swollen bulge was quite noticeable.

“Seems like this blew up some overnight. I’m gonna wrap it and then we’ll see about squeezing this into a boot and how standing feels, okay?” he asked. Jared nodded once.

Jensen scooted closer so that Jared’s foot was resting practically flush against his abs and Jared couldn’t help but notice that meant it was also right by the other man’s cock. Despite the situation, Jared really wished he had some flexibility with the joint, because his toes had some naughty ideas. Knowing it would hurt too much, he tried to distract himself, which was pretty near impossible with the gorgeous, naked man so close.

“So where are we?” he asked.

Jensen tore open a small, vacuum-sealed packet that he had retrieved from the bag on the stool. Without looking up, he answered, “An old, abandoned, trapper’s cabin. Been here for a hundred years, give or take.” Jared watched as Jensen pulled out what looked sort of like a compression bandage, but it had a large, gauze pad and some kind of plastic cleat attached to it.

“What’s that?”

“This is an Israeli Battle Dressing. It can be used as a pressure bandage, tourniquet, or even a sling. I’m gonna use it as an ACE wrap on your ankle, get you fixed right up.” And he raised his head to wink at Jared, before returning to focus on his task.

Jared chewed on his lower lip, not tearing his eyes off the way Jensen’s hands expertly and painlessly manipulated his injured joint. “Where’re we going from here?”

Jensen wound the stretchy material of the bandage in a figure eight around Jared’s ankle and foot. “We’re gonna keep heading in the direction you were going.”

“What do you mean the way I was going?” Jared asked.

Jensen paused and glanced up. “You had the right idea about following the river down to the bay. The ocean’s not more than a mile or so from here. That’s a good, open, visible place to build a signal fire and for search and rescue to spot us. I’d leave you here,” and he paused when Jared started to sit up, vehemently vetoing that plan. Leaning over to nudge him back down, Jensen continued smoothly, “but since I lost my radio and can’t call Traci to let her know where you are, I’d feel better if we stuck together.”

“Damn right we’re going to stick together,” Jared muttered, miffed at the very idea of being left behind again. He was prepared to hold a grudge against Jensen for even entertaining the thought, but the other man’s hands were smoothing the bandage, now secured in place, and the gentle touch was doing things to parts of Jared, things that were going to get obvious pretty quickly given his state of undress.

Trying to distract himself yet again, he blurted out, “I was following Yogi.” That stopped the other man.

“What?” Jensen asked, still cradling Jared’s foot.

“When I came to, I saw a bear near one end of the lake and thought it was Yogi. I figured he knew his way around, so I started to follow him when he headed home.” His face was on fire.

Jensen stared at him, gobsmacked. “You followed a real bear or you followed Yogi?” Jared noticed how slow and precise Jensen’s words were as he asked for clarification and he was really regretting opening up this can of worms, although there was no chance of an awkward erection now, given his embarrassment.

Jared huffed. “I saw this big, brown bear who was fishing and it seemed to make sense at the time to follow him.”

“So, did Yogi have a fishing pole, too? And where was Boo-Boo?” Jared could hear the smirk in that one even if Jensen’s face appeared solemn.

“No, jerk, he was catching fish by hand.” Jared tried to squirm away, indignant over his lover’s mocking tone. And he flat out ignored the “Boo-Boo” jab. But Jensen held onto his leg tightly.

“Hey, now…settle down and let me finish,” he warned, his green eyes glinting. But his hands had returned to their previous, gentle caresses.

“Fine, just no laughing,” Jared scolded him, his resolve to remain pissed melting under Jensen’s ministrations. “I get that it was a dumb move, but it made sense at the time. Remember, I was a little confused and banged up then.” And he pointed in the direction of his bruised temple as a reminder.

“Can’t believe the douche left you behind,” Jensen murmured. Jared was so caught up in Jensen’s touch that he missed most of what the other man said.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, seeing that Jensen was waiting for a response.

“I said I can’t believe that _co-worker_ of yours just up and left you as soon as you got hurt,” Jensen amended.

Jared froze.

Jensen, seeing how rigid Jared had become, was immediately worried and fingered the wrap. “Is this too tight? Are you hurting more?”

Suddenly, the images that had plagued his dreams returned and this time the haze lifted and they fell into place. He sat up and grabbed Jensen’s hands. “He pushed me, Jen,” came his harsh reply. “He pushed me.”

Jensen slanted his head skeptically. “Jay, you’re probably confused. You hit your head pretty hard. You think you saw Yogi, for God’s sake. I’m pretty sure you suffered a mild concussion, so –"

“No, Jensen. He asked me to come to the edge of an outcropping and when I was hanging out by one hand, he hit me in the back and then pushed me over the edge,” he finished with growing horror.

“Have you known him since you started working for Sterling, Inc.?” Jensen finally asked as he finished checking the bandage on his leg. Jared noticed Jensen’s actions had become more clinical and abrupt after his revelation.

“No, he was hired about a month after I was.” And Jared began a rapid-fire replay of key moments during the time he’d spent with Tahmoh. “He got hired when the former marketing gal suddenly had a family emergency she had to deal with. An unexpected health problem from an accident.” He turned worried eyes towards Jensen as the other man rose quickly to his feet. “Jensen?”

But Jensen was already in motion, collecting Jared’s dry clothes and then placing them in his lap. “Get dressed, Jay,” he calmly urged him and then turned to do the same.

While Jared struggled with his boxers and jeans, he watched as Jensen – now dressed – grabbed the old bucket and hurried outside. Before Jared could even think to ask where he was going, he’d returned, swung open the door to the stove and dumped the water he’d collected from somewhere close all over the fire until it was doused completely. He then yanked the bivvy down and started to roll it up tight.

“Almost done?” he asked without glancing up.

But Jared couldn’t answer. The realization that he had been friends with the man who might want Jensen dead was too much. He remembered how often he’d spilled his guts to the guy and thought Tahmoh was the only one who understood how badly he still loved the missing man. He’d betrayed Jensen and had led Tahmoh straight to him. Something hot and sick rushed up his throat and he barely turned in time to vomit on the ground next to their bed.

Jensen was beside him in an instant, holding him by the shoulders as Jared continued to dry-heave. “S’okay, sweetheart.”

Jared sat back up and was vaguely aware of Jensen wiping his mouth with a bandana. Jamming it in a back pocket, he handed Jared his t-shirt and helped him slip it on. Jared let him manipulate his arms like he was a doll and offered no resistance as Jensen worked the shirt down his torso. He did the same with Jared’s flannel and, finally, his jacket. When he was done, Jensen brushed the hair from Jared’s eyes, and tilted Jared’s face towards him. Jared was numb.

“It’s going to be okay,” he soothed, “but we need to get moving.” Jensen stood, stuffed the bivvy into the pack and fastened the whole thing around his waist. He helped Jared to his feet and had him hobble over to the empty stool and sit back down on it. Dropping to his knees, Jensen slid Jared’s boots on him and dutifully laced each one, paying special attention to the left. Jared barely registered any of it. He rose and pulled Jared up with him, slinging an arm around his waist to steady him. The change in position seemed to snap him out of the fugue state he was in. He started to babble.

“Jensen, I’m so sorry. Oh, God, it’s all my fault. I – ” but he stopped when a finger was pressed firmly against his lips.

“Not your fault at all, Jay. How could it be? But I need you to focus now. We’re gonna have to move as fast as possible,” Jensen told him steadily.

Nodding, Jared said, “Okay.” He must have sounded more aware because Jensen flashed him a quick grin.

It was probably more a function of the adrenalin pumping through his system than any actual strength in the limb that got Jared moving, albeit shakily, out of the cabin. While the sun was up, Jared couldn’t see much. Everything was blanketed in a misty, damp fog, cutting down visibility considerably.  He could tell that Jensen was scanning the area and suddenly everything around them, the trees, the muted bird calls, even the rustling of leaves was filled with menace.

 “Which way?” he asked, whispering without realizing it.

Jensen was quiet for a moment, thinking. “We need to find help before he finds us. With the smoke from the cabin, I practically sent up a signal flare. We’d probably end up making too much noise trying to bushwhack it off trail, so let’s keep moving downstream. The water will help mask us,” he decided and offered his right hand to Jared.

Jared stumble-stepped closer and let Jensen draw his left arm across his shoulders. It was not the time to try and act with unnecessary bravado; he was hurt and needed the help. They managed to maneuver along the narrow path that returned them to the river. At first sight of the rushing water, Jared shivered uncontrollably. Though the memories were as misty as the fog that surrounded them, they still made Jared uneasy. He had almost died in that water. Jensen tightened the grip he had around Jared’s waist imperceptibly, seeming to offer him additional strength to deal with the disquieting thoughts without saying a word. Jared ducked his head, but couldn’t quite stop the small smile from curving his lips up.

The two men trudged along as silently as they could, while twigs and ferns snatched at their legs. They tried their best to achieve a certain level of stealth, but it was mostly a lost cause. Jared could barely stay upright, let alone walk along the river, without stumbling and tripping. Granted, the rumbling of the water did provide some cover, but not enough and he recognized that fact. Jared tugged on Jensen’s shoulder, stopping the older man.

“Need a rest?” he asked worriedly, eyeing Jared’s pale face. Jared was in a lot of pain and he knew it must have bled through.

“I think so,” he admitted, coming to a decision. When Jensen guided him over to a fallen log, Jared stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Not here, Jen. You need to find me a place in the woods and hide me while you go on for help.”

Jensen practically scowled at him when he heard Jared’s plan. “I’m not leaving you behind,” he hissed as he rounded on him. He grabbed Jared by the hips and shook him carefully. “Not gonna happen, sweetheart.”

Jared moved both his hands to cradle Jensen’s face. He idly rubbed a thumb against the stubble of the other man’s jaw. “The only way we’re both gonna make it out of here is if you go on without me. I’m literally dragging you down, Jen. Please,” he pleaded, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Like I want something to happen to you? If you think I’m leaving you, then you took a harder hit to your head than either of us realized,” he told Jared in a tone that brooked no refusal.

“Sorry to interrupt such a touching sight,” another voice remarked.

Jared whirled around awkwardly and Jensen stepped slightly in front of him. Not five yards downriver stood Tahmoh. He was dressed in a mix of black and camo gear that Jared had never seen before. And he was idly twirling a wicked-looking, military style knife in his left hand as he slowly approached them. When Jared stared at him, he saw nothing of the man he had considered a friend over the past months. The eyes of a killer met his gaze steadily and without remorse as he stopped a few feet from them.

Jensen stepped more fully in front of Jared, shielding him with his body, and Jared could have smacked him for the useless, wonderful gesture it was if he wasn’t absolutely terrified for Jensen’s safety. “Run,” he gasped and tried to lunge past Jensen. He had no idea what he could do, but he figured he could buy Jensen precious seconds to make his escape. After all, Jensen knew the area, knew how to survive. Jared was sure he’d make it. But he never got the chance as Jensen pulled him back sharply and Jared all but collapsed against him as his ankle gave out. Tahmoh’s stance hadn’t changed an iota; he still stood there all loose-limbed and relaxed.

“You just bought him an extra minute or two, Ackles,” Tahmoh told Jensen.

Jared felt Jensen tuck him along his side, one arm locked around his waist like an iron band. He clung to Jensen’s sleeve and insisted, “You should have run.”

“Never,” Jensen replied, not taking his eyes off of Tahmoh.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything, Jay,” Tahmoh added. Jared stiffened at the familiarity and it did not go unnoticed. “You don’t mind if I call you 'Jay', do you? After all, we are best of friends.” And his smile was oily-sweet.

“I told you to never call me that,” Jared warned him. Jensen tugged him fractionally closer.

“Ah, yes,” Tahmoh agreed. “You know,” he said, turning towards Jensen, “he was quite the stickler about that. Bristled every time I tried to use the nickname. Seems that one is reserved just for you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jared spied Jensen’s left hand slipping down towards the general area where he carried his hunting knife. Jared held his breath, afraid Tahmoh would see what Jensen was trying to do, more afraid for what Jensen might try to do to protect him. When he looked at Tahmoh, all he saw in the moment was an apex predator and he didn’t think Jensen would survive. Before he could say or do anything, Tahmoh lunged forward, with his knife inches away from Jared’s jugular.

“I’d table that idea if I were you,” he warned Jensen. “Unless the last thing you want to have happen in this life is be showered with Jared’s blood before I kill you.” Jensen aborted his attempt at drawing his only weapon and clutched Jared to him. Jared’s knuckles turned white as he twisted his hands in Jensen’s shirt.

“I can be a reasonable man,” Tahmoh continued as he lowered the knife, “and I’m prepared to make you an offer out of deference to the friendship your significant other and I shared.”

“I’m listening,” Jensen snarled.

“If neither of you give me any trouble, I’ll kill him quick, painless,” Tahmoh promised. “I’ll even do him first so you can see I’m a man of my word. He honestly won’t feel a thing.”

“So generous,” Jared quipped, not sure where the nerve to mock Tahmoh came from, but wanting to draw his attention away from Jensen.

“Trust me, it _is_ a generous offer. Your lover has seen an example of the type of quality work I’m known for,” he explained. Facing Jensen, he continued. “What you saw my boys do to that agent in Texas was something I taught them. And I only taught them a fraction of what I know.” Jared watched as Jensen blanched at Tahmoh’s threats. He couldn’t even imagine what nightmare Jensen had unfortunately stumbled into back then. He wanted the other man to shut up and, foolishly, he wanted to buy them time. The instinct to live just a little longer was riding high.

“Why even bother with Jensen? You were in the clear, practically a Keyser Söze in the wind. Why risk it?” he demanded, hoping that Jensen might think of something with the precious seconds he tried to garner them.

Tahmoh drew back a step and Jared found himself breathing minutely easier. “ _The Usual Suspects_ , Jared? Really? Is this where I’m supposed to deliver my villainous speech, a la James Bond?”

Jared shrugged. It had been worth a shot.

“Fine, I’ll give you that. After all,” he winked, “I know how much you value closure.” Jensen growled at the gesture and tried to step forward but Jared held him tightly.

“He does, you know. Your little disappearing act really _gutted_ him,” Tahmoh told Jensen, with a subtle flick of the wrist holding the knife. “He was quite a mess when I tracked him down. I might not have been able to find out where the Feds stashed you, but once I hacked your files I was able to find out who you were. And that led me to him.” Tahmoh indicated Jared with a flick of his knife.

“It took a little persuasion in the right place for a position to open up at his firm, but once it did, I was able to make nice with your boy easily enough,” he grinned. Jared knew that his words were chosen to keep Jensen riled up and Jared was worried that he would be too distracted to think of something that might get them out of danger.

“Got him drunk on many, many occasions and he wasted no time spilling his guts to me.” Tahmoh looked at Jared and added, “Seriously, you cannot hold your liquor. I mean, was it really necessary for you to tell me Jensen is desperate to find a mint condition _Detective Comics_ #140 just because he adores the Riddler and felt the Joker had unfairly overshadowed him as a villain? Really, Jay?”

“I told you not to call me that,” Jared replied tersely.

The amused smile slipped off Tahmoh’s face. “Do you want these last minutes together or not?” he snarled.

“Yes,” Jared whispered. “More than anything.”

Meeting Jensen’s steely gaze, Tahmoh relaxed and continued unperturbed. “Needless to say, he told me everything there was to know about you except where you were. And, after innumerable gallons of liquor later, I was very certain that you hadn’t cracked and contacted him. I was impressed with that, by the way, because if you love him half as much as he loves you, keeping distant must have been torture.”

“I do,” Jensen confessed softly and Jared squeezed his hand.

Tahmoh apparently decided to let the intimate moment pass without ridicule. “To be honest, I’d thought about killing him more than once, simply for the pain I knew it would bring you when you eventually heard about it. But I kept putting it off because I wanted you more and I was afraid he,” he pointed to Jared with a lazy carelessness, “was my last link to you. And I wanted you so much more.

“In my line of work, reputation is everything. And I spent years building up and earning mine. And you,” he advanced smoothly towards them both, but Jared and Jensen held their ground, “cost me a very great deal. If I ever want to rebuild my business to its former glory, I need to continue to make a very clear example of what happens to those who cross me. That, dear Jared, is why I came in from the cold.” And Tahmoh sneered at him.

“You know, I’m glad I thought to pack for the occasion, although I was leaning towards hunting something less than human while I was here. This trip turned out to be a very unlucky and nearly unbelievable twist of fate for you two, don’t you think? And I believe that brings us up to speed, gentlemen. I had hoped to get you both alone and take my time with you, but since members of the staff decided to stay behind and might soon be heading this way, I need to wrap this up quickly,” he finished.

Jared realized their time had run out. He faced Jensen and wanted to tell him so much. “Jen,” he began.

“I know,” Jensen replied and that said it all. Jared pasted a tremulous smile on his face when Jensen’s smile faded and he suddenly yanked Jared closer, pointedly staring at something behind Tahmoh. The other man couldn’t miss it and smirked.

“You really think I’m going to fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book, Ackles?”

“Don’t move an inch,” Jensen rumbled to Jared, “and trust me.” Jared twisted his gaze frantically from Jensen to Tahmoh and blanched at what he saw. Tahmoh evidently didn’t think Jared was that good an actor and slowly shifted his stance to glance over his shoulder.

Across the fast-moving water was a brown grizzly and it wasted no time tearing across the river like the current meant nothing to it, which it probably didn’t. Jared felt the earth thud under his feet from the strength and power behind the charging animal. His heart was ready to beat right out of his chest and he wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. But Jensen had said to stand still. It was all well and good to tell yourself something and grasp it intellectually; it was quite another in practice. And he wanted to flee. But Jensen held him in place with his steely grip. Jared latched onto him in kind.

“Don’t move and keep your voice low,” Jensen whispered and Jared could only nod. Tahmoh, however, had other ideas.

The armed man seemed to succumb to the urges Jared desperately wanted to and began to run upstream. The instant he took flight, he became prey in the eyes of the roughly five hundred pound creature. The bear passed him and Jensen with a foot or two to spare and Jared was overwhelmed by the smell of rotten carpet. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that as long as he lived, which, a hysterical voice inside him pointed out, might be significantly longer than he had recently come to expect, thanks to Yogi.

“But where’s Boo-Boo?” he said out loud and Jensen glared at him like he’d lost his mind, which he might have.

But before Jensen could say anything more, terrible screams rent the morning calm. Jared barely saw the pair through the fog, but it was clear the bear had snagged one of Tahmoh’s legs and brought the man crashing down. He twisted around and tried to bring his knife up and slash at the bear’s face, but the grizzly easily caught the arm in its jaws and the sickening crunch told Jared that Tahmoh would never use that appendage again. The bear caught Tahmoh up in a grotesque hug and the screams started to wind down.

“Close your eyes,” Jensen said in a calm and even tone. “Jared, close your eyes.” He did.

“Just trust me and start walking backwards slowly,” he instructed, but Jared still hadn’t discovered his voice, so he bobbed his head and began moving blindly. Well, it was more of a shuffle than a walk, but Jensen never took his arms away and the two of them backed up into the woods, while an occasional, wet, tearing sound could be heard in the growing distance.

After they had moved a good few hundred feet away from the river, Jensen stopped them. Jared felt Jensen’s hand brush some stray bangs away and he said, “Okay, look at me,” he prodded Jared. “It’s okay to look now.” Jared slowly opened his eyes to see Jensen staring back at him, his green eyes clouded over with worry.

“I have to go back and check,” Jensen told him without preamble.

“What?” Jared demanded, barely able to keep the tremble from his voice, now that he’d found it again.

“I need to make sure he’s dead, Jared. We need to know that there’s nothing to run from anymore. So you stay here,” he tried to continue but Jared wasn’t having any of it.

“No, if you go, I go,” he announced. And then, more quietly, “If anything happens, I want to be there with you.”

“Okay,” Jensen finally agreed after a long moment of silence. “But when we get close, you stay behind me.” When Jared sucked in a loud breath, ready to argue, Jensen cut him off. “It’s that or I leave your ass here, Padalecki. Not negotiating on this one.”

“Fine,” Jared agreed, “Jackal.”

Smirking, Jensen wrapped his arm back around Jared’s waist while Jared hung onto his shoulders and the two of them hobbled back to where they had been previously. In the slowly clearing mist, a mangled lump could be seen a short distance ahead. It was pretty clear what that lump was.

“Stay here,” Jensen said in a low voice. “For me, sweetheart,” he added and Jared silently agreed.

Jared didn’t want to take his eyes off of Jensen, but he didn’t try very hard to make out what he was checking up on. Maybe that made him soft or maybe a coward, but he didn’t want to see what was left of Tahmoh even though the man deserved it. He didn’t want Jensen to have to see it, either, but he knew the older man wouldn’t be denied. When Jensen set his mind to something, he stayed true. It was one of the many things Jared admired about him.

Soon enough, Jensen turned around and headed towards him. Jared couldn’t miss the fact that Jensen purposefully placed himself between Jared’s line of sight and what must have been Tahmoh’s remains. And Jared wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he fell even more in love with him for it. Jensen, still using his body to block Jared’s view, hooked an arm around his waist and said, “It’s over.” Jared didn’t know what to say; there was so much to process. He simply pressed his forehead to Jensen’s and held on.

Too soon for Jared’s taste, Jensen pulled back. Angling the two of them so that Jared had a clear view across and upstream but not of Tahmoh, Jensen pointed something else out to him. Jared cocked his head and saw the large grizzly ambling east, away from them. Something small and slightly lighter in color swung from its jaws and Jared heard what sounded like a cross between a human baby crying and a goose honking. He raised his eyebrows in wonder before spinning towards Jensen.

Jensen smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners and whispered, “Boo-Boo,” before turning them both in the opposite direction to make their way to the bay and rescue.


	19. June 11th

**June 11 th **

 

Jensen quietly slipped into his cottage, closing the door carefully behind him. It was after sunset, which meant it was just past midnight. A new day. Everything could begin again. And he was so very, very grateful.

He placed the large thermos he was carrying on a small table near the door and unlaced his boots. He was tired but relieved the long debriefing with Jim and the rest of the FBI team was finally over. Of course, the worst part had been simply waiting for their field medic to let him know how Jared was doing. Once he was informed that Jared’s concussion was mild and mostly resolved, his ribs on the right side were only bruised and that they had splinted up his ankle – severely sprained but not fractured – Jensen was able to breathe easier and concentrate on what Agent Beaver wanted to know.

It had been quite a shock when he and Jared boarded the rescue ship that spotted their signal fire within that first hour on the shore only to come face to face with Jim Beaver and a select few of the FBI’s finest. But Jim had explained soon enough that he had called in some favors and had been monitoring all of Traci’s outgoing communications since the department data breach months ago, in the off chance that something might happen. As soon as she had put the call in to search and rescue, he and a small team from the Dallas office had boarded a plane and flown out. When he had been informed, en route, that Jared and his company were the people currently renting out the resort, he had marshalled additional, local teams as well, the coincidence too great to ignore. And it had been the right call; they had simply arrived too late to do more than cleanup. Yogi had permanently taken care of their problem for them.

And Jensen was secretly grateful that Jim decided alerting local wildlife authorities about the bear was not a priority on his list. More often than not, if a bear suspected of a fatal attack was reported, the animal and any cubs it might have if it was female were put down quickly. It looked like Yogi and Boo-Boo had escaped that fate. Grizzlies were rare, although not unheard of, for the area; Humpy Creek was well-known for its black bears, which arrived later in the summer when the pinks, who gave the creek its name, were running. But not the larger, brown bear. She was an anomaly.

When Traci had brought him a change of clothes mid-way through his debriefing and whisked him away for a much needed break and shower in her second office, he had told her about the bear and cub so she could spread the word to the other lodges nearby and they could warn hikers to take suitable precautions, like carrying bear repellant, around the Humpy Creek and Emerald Lake trails. He revealed the truth about the bear and even confessed that it must have been the same one Jared had followed without incident. She had simply looked at him seriously and mentioned that amongst many native peoples, the bear was revered as a magical, healing being that was wise and strong. But the bear was also viewed as an enforcer, who punished wrong behavior amongst animals and humans alike, and many believed it was dangerous to even utter its name outside of ritual context.

“Maybe it’s his spirit animal,” she had said. “It’s believed that when the bear appears in your life, it’s a time for healing. That sounds about right for you two, doesn’t it?” She’d winked at his shocked expression and continued, “And I still want to hear the whole story, because I’m sure it’s a doozy. But that’s for another day. When they finally let you go,” she had added, “head back to your cottage. I’ve got your boy settled in there safe and sound, waiting for you.”

And that’s where Jensen found himself now. As he hung up his jacket, he noticed the fire was blazing in the small stove and the whole place was comfortably warm. He figured Traci probably got it going before she’d brought Jared over, but he realized it was the first time he’d ever come back to the cozy heat and it felt like home in more ways than one. He couldn’t help but smile.

He climbed the stairs slowly, not wanting any tell-tale creeks to disturb Jared if he was sleeping. When he reached the top of the stairs, he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned his head against the railing as his smile softened into something more tender. Right across from the stairs was his bed. And curled up on his right side lay Jared, fast asleep. Jensen paused a minute to take it all in.

Jared’s hair was spread out like a waterfall on the pillow and thoughts of Goldilocks sleeping in “just the right bed” came to mind, which he quickly dismissed. They’d had enough of that for one day, he chided himself. His lips were slightly parted and his color looked much better. His hands were clasped together under his chin and he looked like a little boy saying his prayers. Trailing down his uncovered body, Jensen saw that his bandaged foot and slipped off the stack of pillows it had been propped on, so he decided to fix that.

Padding softly across the carpet, Jensen gently lifted Jared’s leg and elevated it again on the pillows. But as soon as he let go of the younger man’s limb, Jared shifted slightly and sighed, seeming to sense the loss of contact. Jensen froze in place, hoping that Jared would drift back to the sleep he still very obviously needed, but, determined to be contrary, his eyes fluttered open instead. He glanced blearily around the room until his gaze locked onto Jensen’s and then he broke out a lazy grin.

“Hey, Jen,” he rasped, his voice sleep-rough.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jensen replied softly. “How are you feelin’?”

Jared shifted and yawned, rolling his shoulders a little. “Not sure,” he replied. “Why don’t you come down here and feel me?”

Jensen shook his head at the cheesy line, but couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his lips. “I think I just might.” And he climbed over the footboard to crawl up alongside Jared. He came to rest on his side, sliding his right arm under Jared to cradle his neck and shoulders and rested his left hand on the other man’s chest, right near his heart. Jared tried to roll towards him, but Jensen kept him still, throwing his left leg cautiously over Jared’s to immobilize his hurt ankle. “Stay like this,” he said.

Jared nodded and placed his right hand on top of Jensen’s left, ghosting nonsensical patterns there with his thumb. “All finished?” he asked

“Yup. Jim and I wrapped things up about twenty minutes ago. It’s all over,” Jensen told him.

“All over,” Jared sighed. “Thank God.”

“Well,” Jensen drawled, “I don’t know about Him, but I think thanks to Yogi are definitely in order.” At the mention of the bear, Jared gave Jensen a worried glance. He patted the younger man reassuringly. “Jim’s not gonna say a word to Fish and Wildlife. By the time anything gets back to them, they wouldn’t be able to conclusively prove it was her even if they ever did happen to spot her again. It’s a big wilderness out there, Jay. She’s safe.” Jensen felt more than heard the deep breath Jared released at the good news.

“I am sorry you had to see everything you did, though,” he confessed to Jensen and, for a moment, Jensen wanted to dismiss Jared’s concerns, but he could never willingly lie to him.

“It was deserved, but still gruesome,” he conceded. “That’ll be featuring in my nightmares for sure, along with Texas and what you went through. That’s why,” and he paused, letting his fingers trip up and down Jared’s prominent ribcage, “when all’s said and done, I think I’m gonna see someone professional about all of this. To help me put things into perspective and help me handle them the right way.” He peered at Jared through his thick eyelashes and dragged a thumb along one of the other man’s ribs, holding his breath and waiting. He didn’t have to wait too long.

“Maybe that’s something I should do, too,” Jared finally admitted. “Maybe it’s something we could do together,” he added with what sounded like a hint of hope in his voice.

Jensen smiled in relief and kissed Jared softly. “Definitely,” he whispered. He hadn’t been lying about wanting to seek out help, but he would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t hoping Jared would realize he needed it, too. The drinking and lack of care were obvious symptoms of depression, Jensen believed, and he knew Jared would need to work through that. Jensen just wanted him to know he wouldn’t be alone in it. He’d never be alone ever again if Jensen got his way. Jared twisted slightly and grabbed for something on the night table. When he rolled back, Jensen saw he had picked up the framed picture of the two of them from years ago.

“You know,” Jared continued in a hushed voice, “when I was at my lowest, I used to remind myself that you took this.” He paused and ran his fingers lovingly along the inscribed frame. “I’d tell myself that if you truly hated me and our time together, you never would’ve bothered with this. You would have either left it or thrown it in the trash. I thought that as long as you had this, you still wanted a part of me with you.” His voice broke at the end.

Jensen plucked the frame out of his hands and moved over him to put it back. “I wanted all of you with me.” With their faces so close, he smoothed a finger over one of Jared’s eyebrows and stared into his ever-changing eyes, marveling at where the blues met the greens.

“What do you see?” Jared asked breathlessly.

“Tidelines. Your eyes are full of tidelines, as mysterious as the ocean,” he confessed quietly and pressed another kiss to Jared’s lips. Jared opened up for him eagerly and they teased each other’s tongues in a familiar dance. Jared tried to twist around, but Jensen kept him easily pinned in place. Jared whimpered at the subtle show of strength and Jensen couldn’t help but grin wickedly. He was definitely going to enjoy manhandling Jared while he still could, given how it seemed to make the younger man melt. But he also wanted to share something with him before it was too late. Although it physically pained him to pull away, Jensen did exactly that, albeit with extreme reluctance. Jared still chased after his mouth, though, wanting one more kiss.

“You up for something?” he asked Jared huskily.

“Well, if you hadn't stopped what you were just doing, I would most definitely have been ‘up’ for something,” he nearly whined. Jensen chuckled and kissed him on the end of his nose. Jared merely harrumphed. “What?” he finally asked, curiosity obviously getting the better of him.

“C’mon,” Jensen urged and got to his feet. He walked around the bed and offered his hand to Jared. He didn’t miss the cautious way Jared rose to his feet and had second thoughts about having the man manage the stairs in his condition. Apparently, he wasn’t too subtle about his concerns.

Jared slapped him on the shoulder and said, “I’ll be fine. Just a little stiff after my nap. Lead on, Macduff.”

As Jensen went first down the narrow staircase, he tossed over his shoulder, “That wasn’t what Macbeth actually said, you know.”

“Philistine, I was quoting Captain Good from H. Rider Haggard’s _King Solomon’s Mines_.” Jensen was about to call him on the lame excuse for misquoting Shakespeare when he saw the dimples were out full force and, well, yeah. Dimples. He was powerless against them. He let Jared have that one.

When they reached the main floor, Jared noticed his bags off to the side. “Traci brought ‘em over,” Jensen answered his unasked question. “The Feds cordoned off Penikett’s cabin and yours as ‘crime scenes’ while they bag and tag what they can. But she finagled her way in and grabbed your stuff. I think someone may have objected, but…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“She’s a force of nature, isn’t she?” Jared replied.

“Definitely. I wouldn’t ever want to get on her bad side,” Jensen agreed. He picked up a throw off the couch and came up behind Jared to slowly wrap it around his shoulders. Taking advantage of their positions, he pulled the younger man back against his chest with his actions. They were both silent for a minute while Jensen nosed around the nape of Jared’s neck.

“This is nice,” Jared sighed. “Maybe we should just do this instead?” Jensen chuckled into Jared’s hair.

“Later. This is something worth seeing,” he promised and released Jared with a brush of lips to the skin there.

“As amazing as the sight on the beach?” he asked, turning to look over his shoulder at Jensen.

While most of the last part of Jensen and Jared’s trek along the river was a hazy jumble, exhaustion and shock weighing on them both to varying degrees, when the trees and tall grass had given away to scrub and eventual shoreline pebbles, a breathtaking scene appeared before them.

A huge, fallen tree, resembling a jungle gym created by Salvador Dali, laid on its bleached side with the bay only a couple of hundred feet beyond. But on every available space on that dead tree, as well as on the ground of the immediate vicinity, were bald eagles. And not just a few, but at least a hundred squawked and preened and flapped their wings. There were more eagles in that one spot than either man had ever seen in their life and the sight had temporarily wiped the events from earlier that morning from their minds. They had simply stood there, hand in hand, and watched in utter astonishment.

“I think this ranks right up there,” Jensen assured him as he collected the thermos and opened the door. “Keep your eyes down until I tell you, okay?”

“Okay,” he answered, and shuffled out sock-footed onto the large deck, with the blanket trailing behind him like a cape. Jensen steered him towards the Adirondack loveseat and helped him to sit. As soon as he’d taken care of that, Jensen dragged a low table over and placed Jared’s injured foot on it, gingerly tucking the end of the blanket around it. He set the thermos next to the end of the bench and finally joined Jared. Clasping a hand that wasn’t buried under the Pendleton throw, he motioned up.

“Look what I brought you,” he stated quietly. Jared dutifully turned his head skyward and gasped.

Like flowing ribbons, green streaks of light flickered across the night sky. Some of them expanded, while others wound across the inky background like snakes. Some raced one other while others swept across the heavens like an encroaching tide. Jared squeezed his hand harder.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“The Tlingit of Southeastern Alaska believe those are human spirits dancing,” Jensen said faintly. “And listen.”

Both men were silent for a while, but there was nothing other than the occasional hoot of an owl. Then, a faint crackling, like static electricity, could be heard. Jared turned wide eyes to Jensen.

“And that’s them trying to talk to us,” he quietly continued. “We’re supposed to answer back in whispers.”

“What should we say?” Jared asked, his tone soft and low.

“Whatever you think is fitting, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Jared eventually whispered, “for bringing Jensen and me back together. Thank you for watching out for us. Thank you.”

Jensen smiled at the young man’s almost prayer-like words and added his own. “Thank you for giving me this man.”

The lights capered across the sky, although the sounds faded away.

Before he did something stupid like start to cry, Jensen disentangled himself from Jared and lifted up the thermos. As soon as he unscrewed the lid, Jared perked up and sniffed the chilly air expectantly.

“Is that chocolate?” he asked hopefully and appeared all of five years old to Jensen, bright eyed and expectant, as Jensen filled the cap of the thermos to the brim.

“Misha sends his regards,” Jensen said as he offered the warm drink to him. “As a matter of fact, I think he’s particularly excited to have you almost to himself in the coming days, with the opportunity to fatten you up.”

Jared accepted the cup and closed his eyes after the first sip. “This is good,” he nearly moaned. “Wait…almost to himself? Where did everybody else go?”

When Jared offered him the cup back, Jensen took a small sip, too, and it was good. Dark, thick and not too sweet. Misha knew his stuff. “The rest of your group is still over in Halibut Cove. Kevin and Lucinda, friends of Traci’s, own the Ridgewood Wilderness Lodge and they’re putting them up for the time being, curtesy of Uncle Sam,” Jensen explained.

“The Feds decided it would be easier to get their work done here if no one else was tromping around, so Traci packed up everyone’s stuff and J.D. swung by to take the bags to them. According to J.D., the Feds are still in the process of interviewing your people, just to tie everything up into a neat and tidy package and it might take them a few days for it all,” he said. “So that means you and I have the place all to ourselves as soon as Jim pulls out tomorrow.” He waggled his eyebrows at Jared.

“Kind of like a honeymoon,” Jared joked, “without the wedding. We do everything ass-backward, don’t we?” He laughed happily.

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen agreed hesitantly and took another swig of the hot chocolate before he refilled it for Jared.

Once he accepted the cup, Jared said in a more subdued manner, “So when Jim leaves tomorrow, it’s really done, right? You’re really free of it all?”

Although Jensen had already answered the question, he understood that Jared was still afraid of him disappearing again. It was going to take a lot of encouragement, positive reinforcement and time before the younger man would be able to relax again. Hell, Jensen knew it was going to take him a while before he felt secure again that no one was going to rip him away from his life with Jared. He laid his arm around Jared’s shoulders and tugged him in close, happy to reassure him of anything and everything he needed to be happy. They had all the time in the world now.

“Yup, I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want to,” he told Jared.

Jared put the cup down and rested his head against Jensen’s shoulder. “What _do_ you want to do?” His voice was so soft, Jensen barely heard him.

“What I think _we_ should do,” Jensen continued, “is take some time off. You’ve got some time coming, don’t you?” Jared nodded, his hair brushing against Jensen’s neck, giving him gooseflesh. “I think we should spend a few days here, let Misha have his way with you and maybe have a movie night with Traci and J.D. one last time.” He felt Jared tense against him and guessed it was because the younger man had been afraid that he’d want to stay. He rubbed his hand up and down Jared’s upper arm and kissed him on the top of his head, gathering his courage.

“Then, I’m thinking we travel for a bit. Head down the coast and make a stop in Washington,” he suggested. Jared straightened up a little and pulled his head away enough to look at Jensen.

“Washington?” he wondered.

“Yeah, Washington.” And Jensen was glad Jared had shifted, so the other man couldn’t feel how hard his heart was starting to beat. “You know, do the tourist thing. Eat dinner on top of the Space Needle, walk around Pike Place Market, take in a Mariners’ game. You like the Mariners, right?” Jared nodded, but looked bewildered.

“And get married,” he added in a whisper and stared at Jared. He watched as Jared’s eyes grew large and his mouth fell open a little. “You’d like that, too, right?” Jensen asked in a small voice. Jared, apparently speechless, did the only thing he could do and kissed him silly.

When they finally broke apart, Jensen smiled so hard, the delicate skin around his eyes crinkled. “Can I take that as a ‘yes’, darlin’?” he drawled. Jared bobbed his head up and down.

When he finally could speak, Jared said, “So Seattle, huh? And after that?”

Jensen tugged him back against his side and tipped his head against Jared’s. “Doesn’t matter after that because wherever you are is home for me.”

And above them, the spirits danced into the night.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have the end to my first J2 story. If you find any part of this story enjoyable, you should thank [heartblowswild](http://heartblowswild.livejournal.com/50897.html) as she was a patient and enthusiastic cheerleader through the whole process!


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